


Very Much Alive

by OfSaintsandSinners



Category: Bandom, MCR - Fandom, My Chemical Romance, frerard - Fandom
Genre: Age Difference, Alternate Universe - High School, Anal Sex, Bondage, Dom/sub, Fluff and Smut, M/M, Masturbation, Teacher-Student Relationship, Voyeurism, alternative universe, student!Frank, teacher!gerard
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-01-03
Updated: 2018-01-19
Packaged: 2019-02-27 16:33:47
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 15
Words: 33,890
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13252188
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/OfSaintsandSinners/pseuds/OfSaintsandSinners
Summary: In Jersey, nothing phases you anymore after a while. Not bullying, not drugs, not guns, not dead bodies in your local lake. Sometimes you'd swear you forget you even had a pulse you were so desensitized to everything. Frank Iero had just as average a life as any other NJ teen.  That all comes crashing down during his senior year at Belleville High School when he befriends a certain teacher...





	1. It Started With An Alright Scene

_BUZZ! BUZZ! BUZZ!_

' _Oh god, not this again…_ ' Frank opened his tired eyes, trying to blink some of the blurriness away. The alarm read as 7:30 am. It's the first day of school. Believe it or not, Frank Iero, who came from a family of high school drop outs, teen parents, and good-for-nothings, somehow lasted 11 years of school, and this was going to be his final year.

 _'Just 180 days to go… or something like that,’_ Hethought, trying to persuade himself out of his warm, comforting bed. After 5 minutes of internal conflict, he threw his legs over the edge to stand. He stumbled not so gracefully to the bathroom, deciding to take a shower.  For some reason, he felt compelled to make an effort and look like he actually cared this year (or maybe just today..?). The water eventually turned hot enough to hop in to, the steam enveloping him in a tight embrace. The water caressed his skin, begging him to stay in that one spot all day. Even though he wished he could, he cut off the tap, knowing he don't have too much time left and grabbed a towel. He headed back down the carpeted hall back to his room. Clothes were skewed across the floor, and the closet was an absolute wreck. A clean Pink Floyd shirt caught his eye, along with his coveted black skinny jeans. It was hard finding jeans with just enough rips to give off a grungy but not overly edgy vibe. Frank ran his fingers through his hair a few times in attempts to style it while slipping his Converse on.

‘ _Fuck, I need e_ _yeliner,’_ he remembered. Eyeliner was essential to everyday life now. 2008-Pete-Wentz-style black eyes and a bit of red eye shadow was his signature “I Give A Fuck Today” look. Glancing in the mirror, Frank admitted that he looked pretty damn cool. _'Oh who are you kidding? You'll always be uncool.'_ Heading down the stairs, Frank picked up his bookbag and some notebooks.

"Morning Frankie," his mother greeted. A simple smile was all he gave her as he tried wolfing down the toast she made as quickly as possible. It'd just been Frank and her since he was 5. His father, as the story goes, “got lost” on the way back home one day from work and hadn’t been seen or heard from since. Frank knew that was some utter bullshit, but it didn’t really matter. He never needed a dad anyway… Mom had been his favorite since he could remember. Mom's always supported him in everything he did, whether it be something at school or with bands. She paid for guitar lessons and dedicated the basement as a practice area. Money was a major issue, but she somehow managed to provide. She even got Frank’s favorite guitar Pansy for his 16th birthday. Sure, they were stuck eating Ramen for months but got by just fine. Just as he finished that thought, he heard a loud honk coming from outside. Parked outside was a jet-black 1990 Ford F150, with a certain afro'd buddy behind the wheel.

"Gotta go Mom. Wish me luck!" Frank yelled, hurriedly picking up his guitar case and slinging his backpack over his shoulder.

"Love you! Oh, and I won't see you til later. I'm taking Jane's shift over at the salon. Eat whatever's in the fridge when you get back home. Say hey to Ray for me." Frank ran out the door and jumped in the passenger’s seat.

"Hey 'fro! Haven't seen you in ages, where ya been? What have you been doing, or should I ask who?" Frank smirked at his own pathetic attempt at humor. Ray was extremely busy all summer with a job down at the mechanics shop and didn't have much time to visit with his friends. He's still making payments on his truck, or 'baby' as he refers to it.

"Watch it midget or you'll get a fist to the face. You know I've been busy lately, dumbass,“ Ray countered. "Oi, watch the 'midget' jokes alright? I don't wanna get picked on _before_ I get back to that hell hole,“ Frank said. Ray backed out of the driveway and onto the main road. ”Sorry, I couldn’t hear you from all the way up here. Oh but uh since you asked, that Latina girl I’d been talking about, she was a hell of a good time," Ray giggled.Frank scoffed in fake disbelief,

“Who knew we’d live to see the day where Ray Toro scores on the regular?” Ray started in about a new Deadpool comic he'd been reading, but Frank wasn’t listening after a while. He zoned out to start anxiously thinking about school. _‘I look pretty decent, could've used more eyeliner though,’_

Maybe this year he’d get more classes with Ray, but it was not likely. Ray was a pretty smart kid. Frank claimed he was smart and simply chose not to “apply himself.” Classes with Mikey was a better bet. Mikey had been around since 5th grade. They were close in middle school, but not so much lately. He had been missing that hell-raising sidekick of his. ' _That should change this year.'_

Ray interrupted that internal conversation. "Short stuff, stop staring off into space. We're almost there." Frank looked out the window. ‘ _Oh godddd...’_ The girls were wearing their slutty usuals - shorts so small and tight they might as well not wear anything at all, blouses that show too much cleavage, and enough makeup to fill the lake by our school. They practically threw themselves at the jocks and football players (who gladly accept, he might add). He wanted to throw up. Frank didn’t understand girls, nor did he want to.

While Frank was sitting there disgusted, Ray was practically drooling."Whoa, down boy. Don't make us get into an accident now," Frank teased. Ray snapped back into reality to park the truck towards the front of the West lot. They grabbed their things out of the back and followed the throngs of fellow high schoolers to the front office to pick up class schedules. Despite this being his 4th time around, Frank still felt a little nervous. Not many people liked him - not that Frank cared much for them either - but it'd be nice to get into some of the same classes as his buddies. I mean, come on, it's the last year. Frank was looking to go out of this 12-year misery with a bang. The grey-haired secretary looked over the rim of her glasses at the two boys disappointedly and asked for last names. She shuffled through the records and handed them their respective schedules.  
  
First Period - Homeroom w/Mrs. Cothran, A-12  
  
Second Period - Art I w/ Mr. Way, C-15  
  
Third Period - Trigonometry w/Mr. Deeds, D-23  
  
Fourth Period - Lunch, Section A  
  
Fifth Period - Economics w/Ms. Jordy, D-6  
  
Sixth Period - English IV w/ Mrs. Fair, B-9  
  
Seventh Period - Creative Writing w/Mr. Way, C-21  
  
  
Well, the schedule wasn't as bad as expected. Ray shared his homeroom, lunch, and English period together with Frank. _'Mr. Way?'_ Frank wondered. _'Never heard of him.'_ He questioned Ray if he had heard of him.

"Nah man. He's probably just new. Let's head off to homeroom." Frank followed behind Ray as he navigated the halls like the pro he was. The halls were filled with girls screaming in excitement at seeing their best friends. The guys all looked relatively clueless as usual. Freshmen made themselves known with their horrified expressions and maps in hand. Frank couldn’t help but laugh them. He continued wondering about this new mysterious teacher on his schedule. ‘ _I hate Art and Creative Writing, so I guess I'm definitely gonna hate this Mr. Way._ _Probably some old, senile perv with a hunched back and no hair..'_ He chuckled to himself. Not long after, Mikey bumped into them.

"Hey Mikey! Just the man I wanted to see! What's up?"

“Do my eyes deceive me? Is it really Frank Iero? The man, the myth, the legend? Holy shit I’ve missed you dude! Video games, pizza, and porn magazines on Saturday nights just aren’t the same with you.” They chattered away, catching up the past 3 months of their lives in about 5 minutes. Not much had changed with either of them. Mikey was always the quiet, laid back kid anyway-didn't say or do much. It was nice just to talk to him like old pals. He handed Frank his schedule to compare. It turned out they had homeroom, Art I, and Lunch together! This was much needed news for Frank. He was finally going to have some good company to make silly faces at and flip off in the middle of class. Pranks and inside jokes were already buzzing around in his head. The three of them headed down to Mrs. Cothran's room with Ray going on about how he did none of his summer work, and Mikey inserting a “There was summer work?” Same old, same old.

Frank smiled to himself. He couldn’t really hold it back as he thought about how it felt being back to old habits. This year’s vibe was a good one, and he didn’t want anything to kill it. 


	2. Pardon My Stares

Mikey and Frank had continued chatting (mostly about guitar) on their way to homeroom. Ray had gone ahead to save some seats in the back of the class. They were seniors after all and finally got to have superiority over the underclassmen, which meant first pick of seats. That’s just the way things went at Belleville. When they arrived in homeroom, Mrs. Cothran gave the same old B.S speech about policies and procedures that every teacher gives every year in every class. _'Someone just shoot me now, I do not wanna listen to this 5 more times today,_ ' Frank wished. The teacher was probably in her late 50s, starting to get gray hairs and wrinkles. Her makeup was as atrocious as the girls Ray and he had seen earlier. NOT a pretty sight at all. Frank completely zoned out of her lecture and began to whisper to his pals. Just as they were about to discuss the ever important topic of horror movies, the teacher turned to face them.

  
"Excuse me boys," she screeched in her native Jersey accent, "there will be no talking while I'm speaking. It's called having respect and I believe students should respect their elders. In fact, back in my day..." she blabbered on and on. The three looked at each other with a "She's such a dumbass" expression and rolled their eyes. The speech never seemed to end.

That morning had been a bit of a drag. After that 50-minute lecture in homeroom, Frank was itching to ditch the place. The familiar sound of the bell promptly dismissed everyone. Mikey and Frank grabbed their backpacks and headed on down to the Art room after waving off Ray. People gave Frank some weirded out looks, probably in regards to the eyeliner and red eye shadow. Naturally, Frank couldn’t find a fuck to give. Getting from Hall A to C seemed to be taking forever to get to with all these idiotic freshmen in the way.

  
"So...“ Frank trailed off, ”do you know who this Mr. Way is? He's supposedly the new Art and Creative Writing teacher. Sounds like a total lame-ass don’t ya think?" Frank began laughing, thinking Mikey'd find the offhand comment funny. Quite the opposite though, Mikey seemed taken aback by the comment.

“Hey, would you chill out and give the dude a chance?” Mikey sharply said. Frank didn’t say anything else about it. _'Does he know this guy? I hope I didn't offend him...'_ Just then, Mikey stopped abruptly in his tracks.

"Ohhh fuck. I forgot about my books for Calculus. I'm gonna run back to my locker real quick. Could you cover for me?" I nodded my head and he turned around, sprinting back the way we came. No longer bothered by Mikey’s strange reaction, Frank continued on to the Art room. He couldn't stand the thought of having some weirdo teacher twice in the same day. _'Ah Frankie, at least give him a chance. Maybe it's not as bad as you think-'_ BAM! His train of thought crashed as he collided head on with some idiot in the hallway.

"OI! Watch it!" Frank shouted, rubbing his head. The dude had managed to knock all of Frank’s books out of his hand and onto the floor, where - of course - everyone was stepping on them. Measuring up to only 5'6 really had its disadvantages.

The stranger squatted down, scrambling to pick up the items before anyone else could shuffle over them. He mumbled, "Sorry, shit I'm such a klutz. Ah man, I'm gonna be late for class. Here are your books!" He tossed them at Frank with little discretion and scurried off. Frank didn't get a good look at a face, definitely didn't get a name. _'Okay, not as great of a start to the year as I thought...'_ He continued on down the hall, thinking to himself, _'Keep your head up kiddo. Just make it through the next 2 classes and-'_

RIIING! RIIING! RIIING! Oh. Hell. No. It was the first day and Frank was already late to class. He didn't care that much (it's not like anyone would miss him) but it pissed him off because that stupid kid made him late. 'Oh there will be hell to pay,' Frank threatened silently. All but trudging down the hall, he finally arrived at C-15, where - of COURSE - the door was shut and locked. _'Great, just great. I've already made a fool of myself once today in the hall. And now I'm gonna do it again in front of a teacher and other dipshits?!'_ Frank pounded an angry fist against the door. It seemed to take an eternity before the door finally opened. Little did he know it would turn out to be well worth the wait.

Standing there was possibly the most gorgeous man he'd ever seen. The pissed expression melted straight off Frank's face and was replaced with a dopey, awe-inspired gaze. _'Ho-ly shiiit._ '  The teacher's eyes were a piercing hazel, lit with fiery passion. Honey specks danced across them-you could easily have lost yourself in them. Maybe he had been wearing a bit of eyeliner, not like Frank's, of course, but just enough to highlight the green irises. He had a sharp jaw line, one that could easily cut glass and all of Frank's anger. He sported a waistcoat that was extremely well-fitted over a simple white button up and black trousers. You could easily tell he was in shape. Not overly muscular, but well toned with no fat to spare. His rolled up sleeves revealed veins in his arms that stuck out slightly, which was a major turn on to Frank. Jet black hair cascaded down his head, tufts of fluff coming down to the back of his neck. It was beautiful, especially with the contrast between it and his smooth, pale skin. It made him seem all the more dangerous and mysterious. _'So much for being an old, bald creep...'_ Frank continued staring shamelessly at him. Frank realized the man noticed because he gave the most adorable grin he'd ever seen. Frank blushed and looked down at his feet. He was glued to the spot like some moron. _'Get a grip, Iero!'_

"You gonna stand there or come in?" The man asked, a lightness to his tone. Frank felt heat rise to his cheeks. His voice alone had set off yet another reaction inside him. It was somewhat feminine and higher pitched than the average male's, but not in a bad way at all. It wasn't overly 'Jersey' either, which was nice change. It suited his sophisticated exterior. Frank shifted his weight from one foot to the other, inhaling a heavenly mixture of cigarettes and coffee that wafted from the classroom.

"I-I-uh well... I-uh yeah." Frank slipped past him and made his way to a desk in the back lefthand corner, trying to avoid all possible eye contact. Some kid had his foot outstretched right in his path. Unfortunately Frank was scurrying too fast to see it. His feet reacted fast and quickly recovered from an almost face plant into the tile. An even darker shade of pink rose to Frank's cheeks.. Chuckles erupted from a few kids. _'Assholes..'_ Frank shot a few death glares and they silenced themselves. That was the third time Frank had made an ass of himself, and it wasn't even lunchtime. The teacher shut the door again, still smirking and traveled to the front of the room.

"Alrighty then kiddos, let's get this train wreck back on track. As I was saying before that slight interruption-" he looked at the blushing student accusingly, but in a playful manner. Frank quickly averted his eyes downward to the paper on the desk. "-I am Mr. Gerard Way. Recently graduated from SVA with a diploma in fine arts, currently the not so old age of 23. The classes I teach are all about having fun and expressing yourself. WIth that being said, I wanna get to know you, so let's quickly go 'round the room. Give your name and 2 interesting things about you." Groans spilled out around the room. Frank especially hated these types of exercises. It was just some bullshit method that teachers used to convince students that they cared. Frank saw right through it.

Mr. Way sighed,"Fine, I'll start." He went back behind his desk and started searching for something. "Well, I'm very spontaneous-" Out emerged a long, fluffy, pink boa that he tossed around his neck and started parading around in a sassy manner. The kids got a kick out of it and started laughing. The genuine giggles made his face light up with enthusiasm. The nice ass shot Frank got while Mr. Way danced around made own face light up. _'Oh I am so going to enjoy this class...'_ he thought. Something told Frank that this wasn't the first time Mr. Way had done something like this. Mr. Way continued, "-and I'm a sucker for singin'. A little karaoke never hurt anyone! Okay sweetheart, your go." He pointed to a brunette in the front row. Frank stopped paying attention to the others and focused on Mr. Way. The sway of his hips was driving him mad. Doodling on some scrap paper was the only thing that managed to distract him. When it was Frank's turn, he looked up, and Mr. Way winked almost suggestively. Frank's eyes widened at the subtle, flirty gesture. 

"Uh, I'm Frank Iero. Something important... well I play guitar and love comics. That's about it." Frank tried to avoid looking at him, hoping he would move on from me to the next student.

"No way, I love comics too! What are you into?" Frank couldn't help but let his mind go to the obvious answer. 'You! - NO! _Stop it dude. He is a teacher, literally 5 years older than you. Get. A. Fucking. Grip.'_

"Oh, you know- Doom Patrol, Dead Pool, Batman... the usuals."

Mr. Way was absolutely beaming. "ME TOO! Ah, that's rad, super cool! We should talk more later. Okay, what about you, green shirt?" The next student began speaking. ' _Whoa, hold on, back up. Did he just say we should talk later? As in, alone?'_ 3 other kids finished speaking before Mr. Way moved on to the next thing. He handed out syllabuses entailing upcoming projects for the next semester and information about famous artists. He started in with the same dumb speech about rules and regulations that Mrs. Cothran had already given us. Frank did, however, seem to pay more attention this time. Not staring at Mr. Way felt like a sin. How could you not stare at such a handsome human? Frank was going to take any chance he got to casually gaze.

As Mr. Way ended his speech about class rules, he followed it up with some instructions. "So, as another 'get to know you' type exercise and first assignment, I want you to draw. It can be anything, no restrictions. Use any kind of media you want. I'll give you the rest of class and please turn it into the 2nd period drawer by the bell. I'll be walking around to see how you're doing and if you need help. Feel free to chat, but don't get too distracted." Almost everyone started working immediately and talked, mostly about who was in what class and who was looking the sluttiest and what not. Frank, however, remained silent, trying to come up with an idea. He twisted a pencil between his fingers, back and forth, lightly pressing the pad of his thumb against the point. And then, at last, an idea struck him. Sketching furiously, entirely lost in thought and concentration, he didn't even notice Mr. Way pressed against his back, leaning over Frank's shoulder. The scent of coffee was exceptionally strong now - sensual and enticing. Those black skinny jeans had just begun to tighten when Frank felt Mr. Way's presence.

The air seemed to thicken as he whispered, "Oh Frankie, that's really good. Maybe add a bit more detail in her veil..." Frank was no Picasso, so it was surprising to hear that Mr. Way liked his work. And Frankie? That was a pet name only his mother used. It was kind of endearing to hear someone else use it. Mr. Way grabbed Frank by the hand, guiding the pencil across the paper. Frank was putty in his hands. The slight improvements he had done to the piece made it appear a thousand times better. "What gave you the inspiration?" Mr. Way sighed into Frank's ear. Frank examined his art thoughtfully for a moment while he formulated a answer good enough to impress his teacher. The piece was centered around the crowned Virgin Mary, but not an ordinary one of course. She was bleeding through the eyes, swords piercing her pure heart. She stood on a path of skulls. Frank had used his set of colored pencils to adorn her in a starry, blue cloak.

"Oh, well when I was younger, I attended a Catholic school. Me and my mom were pretty religious back then, but we slowly drifted away from the faith. She didn't have the money to send me to the private school after a few years, so I was forced to drop out mid-semester and join a public school. It reminds me of a totally different time in my life. It doesn't even feel like my own, looking back on it. I was a different person entirely." Mr. Way seemed fully intrigued, his eyes glancing back and forth between Frank's eyes and lips. Frank's own eyes had settled on thin pink lips. _'Lips I could kiss right off... Oi I need help!'_ Frank looked back at the paper, aware of the smile Mr. Way gave him.

"I'd love to hear more about you, Frank. You have seventh period Creative Writing with me, right?" Frank nodded in response. "Good, I'd love to talk to you after school if that's okay."

Frank wasn't sure if he could handle all of this. He could barely keep a straight face now, in front of all these other people. Being alone would be a whole other story... "Uh, yeah, sure, I'd love to-err, I mean, why not?" Both of their faces lit up.

"Perfect! I'll see you then," he smiled. Mr. Way's teeth were small and so adorable. He had a toothy, childlike grin. As their exchange finished up, the bell rang. Frank's face fell a little in disappoint. Silently, he hoped the teacher hadn't seen. "Well off you go. Can't wait to see you what you have in store for later, Frank. Don't forget to turn in that wonderful sketch! Oh, and try not to be late for the next class!" Frank scrambled to pack up his assorted pencils. Frank placed the drawing in the drawer neatly and headed out. Mr. Way gave him one final smile, one that Frank would savor and think of for the many classes yet to come. Frank perused down the halls with the stupidest, lovey-dovey expression plastered on his face. _'This really is gonna be the best year ever!'_

It wasn't until halfway to his next class that he realized Mikey never returned to art. Where could that lanky dork with glasses have run off to?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Leave a comment or kudos if you're enjoying!


	3. I've Got A War In My Mind

Trig class was basically a waste of 50 minutes. Mr. Deeds did nothing but ramble about God knows what. He was just one of those teachers who could say a whole lot of nothing. Frank took the opportunity to daydream about Mr. Way. Visions of his raven black hair and murky eyes filled his head. Something in the teacher's eyes struck his curiosity. Maybe it was the enticing gold flecks, their intensity or the emotion in them. His eyes seemed to give away all his thoughts and feelings. Even with the joyful look that constantly remained on his angelic face, his eyes seemed pained. Anguish filled them... but why? Frank was snapped back into reality as the bell sounded. Probably a good thing, too.  _'Frank, you know you shouldn't daydream about a guy you just met. Especially when this guy is a teacher._ ' No amount of convincing was enough to shake Frank's intrigue. It's like the two sides of his brain were at war. One part of him strived for something more with this mysterious and handsome man that he'd already felt a personal connection to, but the other part wanted a normal student-teacher relationship and nothing more. Both would be nice... Mr. Way would be a nice addition to Frank's methodical life. It had almost always been just Frank and Ray. At least now he finally got Mikey back, but this was senior year! The drama and risk of it all thrilled him. The vicious cycle of no money, off-and-on-again friends, and Belleville pricks was old and tiring. Frank wanted some excitement and Mr. Way was his one-way ticket (no pun intended.) Just in the past few hours, he'd never been so aware of his own emotions and thoughts. Frank felt alive again.

Frank shoved his supplies in his backpack and headed towards the cafeteria. It was finally lunchtime, which meant being able to sit with his two best friends, relax, eat, and chat for the next 30 minutes. _'Well it's about damn time.'_   The walk to Section A was pretty long, seeing as how it was all the way at the other end of the school. Along the way, he passed the stadium where a bunch of football players usually patrolled. It was always intimidating walking by them. One of Frank, being only 5'6, versus about 10 of them, being about 6'2, never ended with the odds in Frank's favor. Receiving glares, laughs, or harsh comments like 'fag' or 'homo' or 'cocksucker' were pretty much standard. Frank never decided to label himself as straight, gay, bisexual. or whatever, and didn't see why it was necessary to do so. He was just himself, liked what he liked, and wasn't going to apologize for it. Of course, other people didn't like that attitude. Punches had been thrown over it, Frank had been shoved in lockers for it. Nothing major. It was nothing to tell anyone about, God forbid someone have a little pity for Frank Iero. Looking dead ahead with an unexpressive face, Frank began wondering if his eyeliner and eyeshadow was the best choice for today. He soon got his answer.

"Where the hell do you think you're going, dicklips?" That was Jordan, the biggest douchebag Frank ever had the displeasure to meet. He had a new 'girlfriend' about every few days, saying he gets tired of them after they, well... you know. Frank couldn't stand the thought of Jordan using girls like that. He didn't like anyone who acted like that, for that matter.

"None of your business, asshole. Now leave me the hell alone," Frank said without even looking at the guy. He only took a few more step when he felt a yank on his hood that stopped him in his tracks.  _'Welp, this is it. I'm fucked. So much for my wonderful day..'_

Jordan shoved his body up against Frank, sizing him up. "Asshole huh? At least mine's intact you fucking faggot. You think you can talk to me like that punk? Huh? OI! Got a dick stuck down your throat or what?" Frank closed his eyes, bracing himself for a punch to land on his nose any moment now. "HEY, I'm talking to y-" Jordan was interrupted by an awful cracking sound. When Frank opened his eyes, he realized that noise was the result of Jordan's jaw being pummeled by none other than Ray's fist. Jordan grunted and stumbled back, letting go of Frank's hood to cradle his cheek as his friends rushed in around him. While Jordan and his buddies were distracted by the blood running out of his mouth, Ray and Frank made a run for it. As they sprinted down the courtyard, Frank heard an echo coming from behind, a shout of "WE'LL GET YOU FAG. YOU TOO TORO!!!" Neither boy ceased running til they were safely inside the walls of the cafeteria. They both stopped to catch their breaths. Once Frank could finally breathe again, he looked over at Ray. We just stared at each other for a minute and then erupted in a fit of laughter.

"DUDE! That was so badass, you're like my fucking savior! Holy shit thank you man, I seriously owe you one. That really could've ended badly had it not been for you." Frank was indebted to this crazy metal man, I mean he might have just saved his life. "Come on, I'll buy you lunch." Ray murmured something about it not being a big deal and an inaudible thanks for the offer. They continued on straight to the lunch line with heads down, trying not to draw more attention to themselves.  _'Maybe drama isn't as great as I had thought...'_

The high schoolers at Belleville have a theory about school lunches. The first day back always seems to have the best food - pizza, fries, chips, cookies - but as the school year progresses, the lunch ladies remember how much they hate kids, and the food quality goes downhill from there. Today, fortunately, they were serving cheese pizza and handing out free chocolate chip cookies. Frank went through the line and got two slices and a cookie for each of them, then went to the vending machine for a bag of chips to share and a Snickers for Ray (his favorite candy since elementary school). For the first day back, the school always paid a Starbucks vendor to come sell coffee Yeah, Frank knew the whole Starbucks hype was hipster, overpriced, and overrated. But man, coffee's just too damn good to pass on. He picked up two tall dark roasts and eventually found a place to sit down at a table near some windows.

"Whoa, short stuff here sure can eat! Think you're gonna starve or something?" Ray teased.

"Oh shut it, half's for you dumbass!" They ate their mini feast and talked about their first impressions of this year's classes and teachers. Ray was in the middle of thanking Frank for the food right as Frank noticed Mikey across the room. He tried motioning him over to us, but Mikey only mouthed something he couldn't quite make out and kept walking. He seemed to be following Mr. Way, who was a few steps ahead of Mikey. _'Wonder where they're headed off to, maybe Mikey got in trouble for never showing up to Art...?_ '' Ray seemed concerned as well, which is just like him. Always being the Dad of the group. Frank dismissed it and resumed their previous conversation about upcoming horror movies. Unfortunately, it was soon time to leave for 5th period. Economics and English was next. Frank had had Ms. Jordy and Mrs. Fair before, and he liked them alright. Maybe their classes wouldn't be absolute torture. Plus, Ray was in his English class, and after that, Frank would be off to Creative Writing to see Mr. Way again. He didn't know how he got so lucky to have Mr. Way twice in one day. Maybe this was God's way of smiling down upon Frank... or some shit like that.

During Economics, everyone just talked to one another. Ms. Jordy didn't have her lesson plans ready, so she started off with the same crappy rule speech, then did 'get to know you' exercises. Nothing too bad for the first day. English, however, didn't go so well. They were first handed syllabuses and a list of mandatory books that needed to be read by the end of the year along with a 2-3 page paper about each. Frank silently read off titles. 'Beowulf, The Great Gatsby, Hamlet, The Catcher and the Rye, The Scarlet Letter, Dante's Inferno, The Odyssey...' The list went on and on! Frank looked over at Ray a few seats down and he rolled his eyes. Luckily, Frank was seated in the back of the class ( _'Bad mistake miss...'_ ) so he pulled out his phone and listened to some Misfits. Never did get caught. In fact, the boy was almost asleep when the bell rang. He had to wake a drooling Ray up to tell him they were leaving for last period.

Slinging his bag over his shoulder, Frank trekked down to C Hall pretty pumped. He still hadn't seen Mikey since Lunch. Everyone had to get used to this old schedule, he reminded himself. The Creative Writing room was located relatively close to the Art room, so it wasn't hard to find. Only a handful of other kids had arrived. With about 3 minutes to spare, Frank had his pick of the open seats. Maybe he was a little too early because Mr. Way wasn't even there yet. That disappointed him- it took away time that he could be staring at him! He chose a desk towards the back, yet still in the line of sight of Mr. Way's desk. Frank unzipped his bookbag to get out a notebook and pencils, determined to be completely prepared for class this time. More and more kids shuffled in slowly, all making comments about wanting to hurry this class up so everyone could leave. Mr. Way came zooming into the room as soon as the bell rang, accidentally slamming the door behind him. Everybody jumped, including him. His face promptly turned a delectable, rosy shade of red. He stood there for a second, looking like the kid caught with his hand in the cookie jar. Some of the students started to giggle, which caused Mr. Way to crack a smile.

With a chuckle, he started in, "Well, afternoon students. Sorry about that, sometimes I'm a little overly forceful," _'Well that's exciting to know-STOP IT!'_ Frank just couldn't help but turn everything Mr. Way said into a little innuendo! "So, to start, I'm Mr. Way, your Creative Writing teacher this year. Some of you may know me already from my Art class. Anyway, I'm new here so let's go around the room. Please just give your name." That only took up about 5 minutes, and then he gave the students a quick rundown of the things they'd be doing for the next semester. Similar to what he did in Art, for the first assignment, he instructed the students to write a short story or poem about anything. "No restrictions, don't hold back any emotions or feelings. I wanna try to get a feel for you and your writing styles. It doesn't have to be some magnificent work or anything, just a rough draft will do, but please put effort into it. Turn it into the seventh period drawer by the bell. Good luck!" Mr. Way sat down at his desk, typing away on his phone. Frank wondered if he was texting someone, and who it could be. He didn't want to think too much about it because for some reason, he could already feel a bit of jealousy bubbling up inside him. He turned his attention to the assignment. Hmm... what to do, what to do... A few ideas floated around in his head, but none stood out. Paper after paper was crumpled. During Frank's free time, he occasionally wrote some lyrics to go with guitar riffs he had composed.  _'Maybe one of those would work as poetry.'_  Once again, Mr. Way circled the room to peer over his pupils' shoulders. Eventually he came up behind Frank and read the few words Frank had written.

_We hold in our hearts the sword and the faith_  
_Swelled up from the rain, clouds move like a wraith_  
_Well after all, we'll lie another day_ _And through it all_  
_We'll find some other way_  
_To carry on through cartilage and fluid_  
_And did you come to stare, or wash away the blood?_  
_Well tonight, well tonight_  
_Will it ever come?_  
_Spend the rest of your days_  
_Rocking out just for the dead_  
_Well tonight_  
_Will it ever come? I can see you awake anytime, in my head_

At first Frank thought Mr. Way didn't liked it, for he was silent for quite some time. He looked up at his teacher shyly, like he had done something wrong. "Um, I know it's not great or anything, this is just the first thing that I wrote and it's stupid, just a first draft-I'll probably rewrite it or scrap it completely maybe or-"

"NO! I mean, no. Frank, this... this is amazing. Your mind is truly so creative, and you came up with this on the spot? Wow... it's fantastic! Don't get it rid of it, please. I definitely want to keep this. Continue writing like this and you'll make A's all year long!" He was practically radiating with happiness. Frank murmured a shy 'thank you' and resumed writing. 

Mr. Way had begun walking away when he turned on his heel to say, "Oh Frank," he remembered, "don't forget to see me after class!" He then smiled his sexy little smirk and winked for the second time that day. Frank nodded at him as he turned back to walking around. Frank's confidence had skyrocketed past its normal level into the ceiling. Frank didn't know if it was in his head or not, but it seemed like Mr. Way was flirting a little.He shook off the idea, knowing he didn't need to get his hopes up, but still kept smiling like some kind of 13 year old girl. A text from Ray vibrated his phone from the inside his pocket.

Ray: 'Hey man, you need a ride back to your house?'

Frank: 'No thanks. I've got something to do, I'll just walk. Talk to ya later!'

The bell then sounded. Mr. Way walked out of the room, saying he'd be back in a few minutes. Frank went up to the front and turned in the poem, ecstatic that Mr. Way had liked it. Packing as slow as possible so the other students didn't notice him staying behind was kind of impossible. Frank was usually the first one out the door, even if it meant shoving his way through.

 When Mr. Way returned, he was glancing at some papers. Everyone had cleared out, leaving Frank and him alone in the room. He then glanced over at Frank, slowed down his pace, and smirked. For the second time, Frank's pants seemed to tighten a bit.

 "So uh, Mr. Way, you wanted to talk?"

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey hope ur enjoying!! feel free to leave any comments or suggestions u might have for me. thanks for reading!


	4. After Class

Frank had to admit, he was more nervous than he guessed he'd be. He tried reminding himself that he'd only met this man this morning, no more than 7 hours ago, and there was no reason to expect anything magical to happen... but still, he secretly wished something would. Mr. Way's eyes seemed so intense, like they could burn a hole straight into you. Maybe it was his handsome face or incredible posture that made Frank feel insecure and self-aware of his own. Mr. Way was, Frank admitted to himself, out of Frank's league. Not just in looks, but also in age. _'Oh give up, there's no way he's interested in you,'_ one part of Frank's mind told him. Another part piped up, _'But he's so cute... fuck!'_

"Oh there you are Frank, just who I wanted to talk to! Pull up a chair next to my desk," Mr. Way instructed. Frank did as told, scooting a seat next to the teacher's roller chair. Frank sat with legs crossed and his hands placed in his lap as a precaution. He did not want anything to uh, pop up, and embarrass him. "So Frank, I noticed you were kinda having a rough day, and the other kids weren't the coolest about it. Sorry about that buddy. I thought maybe this little talk would make you feel better. I really wanna get to know you. In class you came off as a pretty cool kid! You gave some interesting facts about yourself, and I just thought it'd be cool to get to you know you a little more personally," Mr. Way articulated. His usage of the word "kid" made Frank cringe with embarrassment. He desperately wanted his teacher to see him as more than that.

"It's fine. I'm used to shi- I mean, stuff like that happening to me. Huh, uh well where do I even begin?" Frank questioned.

"Anywhere you want. You're creative, aren't you?" Mr. Way encouraged.

"Well, me and my mom live by ourselves about a mile down the road. I love comics, as you know. Me and my buddies are really into horror movies. Saw, Psycho, The Exorcist, you know? I was born on Halloween, so I'm kinda obligated to love all things creepy and dark and disturbing. Guitar - music in general, actually - is a major part of my life. My mom exposed me to every genre imaginable when I was growing up. That's Pansy over there." Frank pointed over his shoulder. The guitar case was placed beside his backpack near the back door. Pansy was his most prized possession by far, a gift from his mother. It was a creamy white Les Paul that Frank loved carrying around almost everywhere he went. Nobody touched it except Frank.

"Can I see her?" Mr. Way asked. _'Wellllll, I guess I could make an exception to the no-touchy rule for him.'_   Frank nodded, got up, and brought it over to him. He laid the case down on his desk and unzipped it. Mr. Way ooh'd and ahh'd for a minute as he examined the guitar before picking it up and strumming a few chords.

Frank shook his head in excited disbelief. "No way, you play guitar and sing? That's rad, Mr. Way!" Frank exclaimed. Frank always geeked out over things like this. It was hard to find people with the same interests in this town, so when he did, it called for enthusiasm. Mr. Way simply laughed at Frank's reaction.

"Well, I'm not an avid guitar player or anything. I'm much more into singing. I just play enough to work out certain things in my compositions. Probably not near as good as you. Oh and you can just call me Gerard when we are in private. Mr. Way is just so formal, so... not me," he said with a slight cringe. "Just don't say Gerard in class. I'd hate for the other students to think I'm giving you special treatment, Frankie," he smirked. There he went with the pet name again. Frank's heart sped up slightly. Mr. Way's eyes had been tracing over the strings and designs when he turned his gaze straight to Frank. He looked so... serious. He alternated his gaze between Frank's eyes and mouth, contemplating... what, Frank wasn't sure. He seemed lean forward a little, then shook himself and reclined back into his chair. "Um, maybe you could play something for me? Only if you wanted..." Frank almost missed what Mr. Way had said for analyzing the situation. Frank flipped through his mental library of music and possible song choices. There were so many to choose from. Frank really wanted to impress him by playing something he would like.

"You like Smashing Pumpkins any?" Frank suggested.

He instantly started nodding his head. "Funny you say that, some people have told me I look like Billy Corgan when he was younger!" Frank grinned, tuned the guitar a bit and started strumming "Tonight Tonight." Mr. Way seemed to be really into it, tapping his foot, absent-mindedly nodding his head along. _'Damn he's so cool... he likes the same bands and comics as me, this couldn't get better!'_ Frank had only been playing for about two minutes when Mr. Way started to sing the last part. No. Not Mr. Way- _Gerard_ was singing, and singing like an angel at that! He wasn't just a teacher in this moment, he was a human being, Frank's friend.

_Tonight, So bright, Tonight..._   
_We'll crucify the insincere tonight_   
_We'll make things right... We'll feel it all tonight..._

He was really getting into the music now. His eyes were closed, the music surrounded the two, carried them to another world, a different dimension. Just two. Together. Something really raw yet honest was embedded in his vocals. He made the song his own. It only encouraged Frank to play twice as hard. He put everything into that last bit.

_The impossible is possible tonight..._   
_Believe in me as I believe in you, tonight..._

Frank finished playing the last little bit as Gerard opened his eyes again. He had been examining Mr. Way's face as he sang and couldn't bear to take his eyes off now. Passion was plastered all across his face - in the slight crease of his forehead, in the cute little dimple on the left side of his mouth. He stared back at Frank for a moment, trying to gather his thoughts and read Frank's expression. His eyes clouded over. He shook himself again and cleared his throat as he relaxed back in his seat. The once passion-filled look was replaced with his normal teacher demeanor. He started to talk as Pansy was replaced in the case.

"So, you can draw well, write amazingly, and play guitar phenomenally? You sound like a guy after my own heart. Honestly though, you have some serious talent in you. I know it's only the first day and all, but you're really such a great guy - I mean friend, err student!" He ran his hand through his hair and scratched his head as his face flushed in the most captivating of ways. Frank had no clue what to say in response. _'Quit overthinking it, he just slipped up. If you didn't have such a dirty mind...'_ Fortunately, Mr. Way piped up before Frank had to think of a response. "Um Frank, I just remembered I need to uh-go take care of something over in the teacher's lounge. Yeah... so you better get going." Frank's face fell a little. He quickly interjected, "But you should definitely stay again tomorrow. Be sure to bring Pansy, I'd love to hear more!"

"Yeah, definitely. I liked our little hang out session. It uh, it really made my day. Thanks for starting my year off pretty great, Mr. - I mean, Gerard," Frank corrected with a shy grin.

"No problem, Frankie. I look forward to seeing you first thing in art tomorrow. Let's not be late again, alright? Catch you later, kid," Mr. Way waved him off. Frank was more than satisfied to hear that from him. He grabbed his things and started heading for the back door.

"See you later, Gerard," Frank said as seductively as possible, not even stopping to think if it was a little too much. Maybe it was, but who cared? _'Just a tease!'_ Frank convinced himself.

Walking home, Frank couldn't wipe a smug expression off his face. He'd gotten to spend the past half hour alone with the teacher he was seriously crushing on. It was hard to believe how connected Frank felt to the guy already. He replayed Gerard's singing in his head over and over. It was better than any song in his music library by far. For once, Frank couldn't wait to go to school the next morning. He was so caught up in his head, however, he almost didn't hear the car horn behind him. Somehow he had ended up walking into the middle of the street, and only narrowly avoided being run over by a car. He made a mad dash out the driving female's way and back over to the side walk. The lady promptly flipped him off as she yelled from the inside of her car. Laughing it off, Frank realized he was too love-struck to be bothered.

The streets were deserted after that, leaving only Frank and his thoughts. Up the steps to his house he went, fishing out jingling keys to unlock the door. He tossed his bag and jacket to the floor. Pansy was gently placed on her usual spot by the door. Frank headed into the kitchen to get the dinner his mom mentioned that morning. He microwaved the day old spaghetti and threw some bread in the toaster. While waiting for supper to warm, Frank whipped out his phone. 3 texts from Ray showed on the screen.

Ray: 'hey what were you doing after school?'  
Ray: 'u wanna come over friday?'  
Ray: 'Oi! short stacks, you still alive?'

_'Oh Ray, always the worrier,'_ Frank thought to himself, shaking his head.

Frank: yeah dude im alive. I just had to run a few errands for my mom. im down for friday night tho! 

His story sounded convincing enough. By that time, the microwave had dinged, signaling that the spaghetti was cooked. Frank grabbed a fork out of the drawer and headed to the couch. Frankenstein had just started playing on one of the movie channels. Frank nestled down in the couch and ate while he watched, not that he was paying much attention. His mind was already back on Gerard. Thoughts of his beautiful face, stylish exterior, and talented personality ran rampant. The things Frank wanted to do to him...

Fortunately, Frank's mother wasn't home yet. He ran upstairs and stripped off his clothes before jumping in the shower. He thought it might calm him down, but it actually had the opposite effect on him. Frank lost himself in a made up scenario of him running his hands through Mr. Way's dark hair, while Mr. Way bit his lower lip, only slightly nibbling on Frank's lip ring. So damn hot and needy... Frank couldn't help put touch himself in the privacy of his hot shower. The steam made him choke on his moans. He stroked his hard cock faster and faster as he imagined Gerard bending him over his desk, telling him how naughty he was for fantasizing about a man much older than him. The guilt he felt just made him even hornier. Then, the scenario in his head switched. This time, Gerard was on his knees, looking up at Frank with those big beautiful hazel eyes, staring innocently as he took the head of Frank's dick in between his pink lips. It was enough to push Frank over the edge into one of the best orgasms he'd had in long time.

He finished lathering and rinsed his body off and stepped out of the tub. Once the towel was wrapped securely around his waist, Frank walked to his room, picked up some skeleton pajamas off the floor and pulled them on. The bed looked so inviting, so warm. As soon as Frank's head hit the pillow, he knew he wasn't getting back up. He checked his phone to see a missed text from Mikey.

Mikey: sorry about ditching during lunch. I'll catch up with you guys tmw!

Frank: no big deal man. where were you anyway?

Frank never did get a response. He wasn't really sure why Mikey was being so weird about things today. Maybe it was just because they hadn't seen each other in months, or maybe it was first day jitters. Who knew? Frank didn't have much more time to think about it before he drifted off to sleep. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hey we got over 100 hits! that's pretty sick! let's see if we can get more. dont forget to smash that muhfuckin like button, turn on the bell, comment, subscribe, rate 12 stars on yelp, and share on pinterest LETS GET THIS TO 100K LIKES (not really). lmao thanks for reading


	5. Heaven Help Me

When Frank awoke, it was only 7:15 am, meaning more time than usual to get ready. He lugged his lifeless body out of bed and pulled on dark blue jeans with the knees worn out. Some digging around in his closet revealed a worn Smashing Pumpkins tee, reminding him of the little escapade with Mr. Way yesterday. Frank reapplied some eyeliner, not as much today though. The eyeshadow was ditched out of fear of another encounter with douchebag football jocks. Because his mother wasn't up yet, Frank decided to skip out on breakfast and spent time styling his hair. Normally he didn't care, but Mr. Way seemed to change that. Another good impression was crucial. Once Frank had it perfectly in place, he grabbed his backpack and skipped down the stairs to the living room.

Picking up Pansy, Frank hollered, "Bye Mom! I'll see you after school!" Lord knows if she heard him or not, as he was already out the door before she had time to respond. It was only 8, but Frank wanted to talk to Ray before they got to school. Something had been occupying his mind all morning, and he wasn't sure whether he was ready to talk about it or not. Before long, the old black truck rolled into the driveway, prompting Frank in.

"Hey Ray," he murmured. He wasn't really sure how to word the situation and still be subtle about it.

"Frank, you good buddy? You seem out of it. Come on, talk to me, dude. Ya know you can tell me anything," Ray encouraged. In his mind, Frank thought _'Should I just come out and tell him? No... it'd be too embarrassing.'_

Before he could stop himself, though, Frank blurted out, "Actually Ray, I need to ask you something..." He instantly regretted saying anything. This was going to be awkward... It's not like he could just out right say "Oh Ray, I have this weird man-crush on Mr. Way, and he may like me back. I'm getting mixed signals and it's really taking a toll on my emotions. Oh yeah and it's totally illegal but who cares!" Yeah, that would probably end with Ray putting Frank in an insane asylum, Mr. Way getting fired, and they'd never see each other again. What to say, what to say...

Frank started in slowly, "Well, there's someone I like right now. A lot. I only just met this person, but we really connected, like, we're into the same music and movies and... yeah. But uh, there's a bit of an age difference between us..." He trailed off. Ray was quiet for a while, he seemed to be processing the information. Then he turned to Frank and smiled. Not just any smile, he was literally beaming.

"OOOOH, Frankie's got himself a crush! Come on dude, who is she?" Frank felt his heart break a little. Frank never really came out as anything- not gay, straight, bi, whatever. Not that he thought Ray would judge him, he just didn't think this was the right time to come out. He didn't know if it would ever be the right time to tell anyone. Ray seriously looked like the biggest fan girl right then.

"Oh shut it, Ray. And they don't go to Belleville, so you wouldn't know 'em," he lied, making sure to avoid gender pronouns. "But I don't know what to do! They're just... so perfect and out of my league," Frank whined.

"Well Mr. Lovebird, I think you should go after her. Girls love a good chase, am I right?" Ray said. Frank did a mental eyeroll. _'I wouldn't know!'_ Ray continued, "Who cares about age anyway... If you get along and share common interests, just go for it. What's the worst that could happen? Are you nervous because she's taller? The whole world is taller than you, I'm sure you make up for it in-"

"OKAY, Ray, got it! Alright shit, well, I guess I'll give it a shot. Yeah, I'll see what I can do..." By that time, Ray pulled into a parking place in West lot. Frank thought he might throw up, not that he could since his stomach was empty. So much was running through his head at once, it was hard to calm down. He had to play it cool in front of everyone, especially Mr. Way. He closed his eyes for the last few minutes before the bell rang and tried to focus on the Misfits song blasting through the truck speakers.

Homeroom was a total bore. A seating chart was assigned, which meant Ray and Mikey were placed on the other side of the room facing away from Frank, making it hard to communicate. The announcements came on over the intercom. It was the usual 'welcome back to hell' speech, a reminder about a staff meeting at 3:30 and a quick rundown of what was for lunch. Nothing too important, so Frank just plugged in his earbuds and listened to Black Flag. He was headbanging to the beat of Rise Above off of Damaged when Mrs. Cothran came up behind him.

"Mr. Iero," she screeched, making Frank jump, "take those earphones out right now. You know the rules-no electronics in school!" The whole class was looking at the two now. Frank's face flushed. She lowered her voice, "I know I'm supposed to take it away, but it's only the second day back, so I'll let it slide just this once." Frank faked a smile, took the earbuds out and sarcastically thanked her. Once she was turned around again, he rolled his eyes and reinserted them into his ears and turned it on half volume as a precaution.

"Teacher's pet..." the kid next to Frank muttered.

"Oh fuck off," he hissed back, apparently not so quietly.

"Frank Iero!" Mrs. Cothran turned back around. "Wait, are you still listening to that horrid noise? That's it, you have detention on Friday afternoon." The class let out a chorus of snickers and sneers which she attempted to hush. As if Frank's face wasn't red enough, he was almost positive it'd be a deep maroon by now. Ray shot him a sympathetic look, but he didn't return it. Frank glared at her and the other dumbasses, silently cussing them out. He really didn't care about being in trouble. Teachers hated him, sure, but seriously? - detention for listening to music and saying the f-word? BIG DEAL! Who the hell wanted to sit in detention for an hour when he could be out chilling with Ray at the mechanics shop or video gaming it up with Mikey?

The bell rang and Frank bolted for the door, not bothering to wait for Mikey. He wanted to hurry up and get to Art. He was in no mood to be late today on account of other idiots. Mikey ran and caught up with Frank easily. He silently damned his long legs, wishing to just be alone so he could cool off. The two continued onward in silence. Frank might be short, but when he got pissed, he could take down a bear.

Stomping into class, he noticed not many were there yet, not even Mr. Way. Mikey followed behind Frank, keeping his distance like a fearful little puppy. He took the seat next to Frank's without a word or glance. Frank tore his backpack open and threw all his supplies on the desk. Yeah, he knew he was acting like an absolute 5 year old, but couldn't find a fuck to give right then. Compared to yesterday, today was going like shit. A few deep breaths later, Frank had regained some of his composure. With the extra bit of time, he leaned over to Mikey.

"Oh yeah, why didn't you ever come to art yesterday? Or answer my text?"

Mikey's eyes widen a bit. "Uh, not now, I'll explain later. It's not a big deal or anything, it's just, uh- yeah," he replied. He seemed all fidgety this morning. 'Fine. Don't tell me,' Frank thought. He was too frustrated to care at that moment anyway.

  
Soon enough, the bell rang, the students quieted, and Mr. Way entered in the room. The second he saw his teacher, his whole body relaxed. Today Mr. Way sported some black slacks that hugged his ass fantastically, another white button up, and a light grey tie. Frank had a hard time deciding which outfit he preferred- yesterday's or today's. He seemed to avoid eye contact with Frank, sending the momentary giddy feeling back to hell.

"Mornin' kiddies, hope it's been a good one for everybody," he grinned. Mr. Way went back behind his desk and pulled out a manila folder stuffed with papers. "These are your drawings you turned in yesterday. I graded them all last night, and I must say, they were all pretty decent. A few were totally amazing!" He finally made eye contact with Frank during that remark. He quickly smiled, innocent as could be, and moved on. A stout little redhead started passing out the drawings as Mr. Way had instructed. When she got to Frank, she stopped and examined it.

"Wow, this is really great. Where'd you learn to draw like this?" she asked with wonder. Frank did not appreciate her looking at his work and was definitely not in a mood for small talk. He just wanted the damned paper.

"Nowhere, now gimme back my paper-" He tried snatching it out of her hand, but she pulled back.

"The detail in her veil is amazing. You can see the emotions on her face and everything... The whole concept is pretty rad, dude, good work. I'm Terra by the way! What's your name?" Damn this girl was perky. She stuck her hand out in front of Frank. He gave it a disgusted look, which she only scoffed at. "Never seen a hand before?" Sarcasm... Frank liked that.

Frank cut her some slack. "Frank Iero, now give me my damn paper." She smiled, content with an answer, and handed over the drawing. He watched her saunter off, laughing under his breath. _'She's a crazy one.'_   Flipping over the art work, Frank noticed a very obvious 100% on it in red ink. A little note was scrawled in magnificent handwriting at the bottom.

_Frank -_  
_I hope you'll still be coming by after school today._  
_I'm really excited about seeing more of your work too!_  
_xo Gee_

Why would he, of all people, want to even be associated with Frank, Frank wondered. His hopes were so high at a chance with him. Mr. Way still wanted Frank to stay and still was going with the first name basis. _'Gee... what a cute little nickname for him!'_ When Frank looked up again, Mr. Way was staring in a questioning manner. Frank nodded at him, which made him grin. Mr. Way then went back to filling out some papers at his desk. Once all the papers were passed out, Mr. Way turned on the overhead projector and started his lesson with a PowerPoint on Edvard Munch - the guy that painted "The Scream," a bunch of naked ladies, and is thought to be the first expressionist painter in history. It was all leading to the point that for their first real project, they will be creating a painting using expressionism. By that time, the bell rang and class was dismissed.

"Uh Frank, hold on a sec," Mr. Way said. Mikey looked at his friend with a lost expression. Frank motioned for him to go on without him. Once the last kid got out, Mr. Way resumed talking, one hand resting on his jutted out hip. "So what do you think?" Frank was confused at first, but then remembered the note.

"Oh! Oh yeah. Of course. I promised you yesterday, and I still brought Pansy if you wanted to, uh... yeah. Uh, well I, I need to get to class. See you later." They both smiled at each other, then Frank hurried along to the next class. He couldn't help but scold himself for stuttering so much. His heartrate had no doubt increased nearly double by that point. Just being in the same room made Frank dopey and nervous, let alone talking. Frank couldn't help but feel himself falling harder and harder for this teacher. _'Damn that sexy fucker... He'll be the death of me, him and his toned body and gorgeous face, and- Oi, I really need to sort myself out...'_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> let me know if ur enjoying! thanks for reading everyone


	6. To My Rescue

Trigonometry, once again, was a waste of time. When Mr. Deeds wasn't digressing on some depressing story from his childhood, he went over the different classifications of triangles, which Frank was pretty sure everyone knew about since middle school basic algebra. Frank, bored as ever, doodled in his composition notebook for most of the class. The doodles ranged from anatomical hearts to Godzilla to fluffy little clouds that vaguely reminded him of Ray's hair. More daydreams of Frank and Gerard ensued within the confines of his jacked up brain, though a lot were suppressed. Frank peeked over at the clock. _'10:07. Eh, could be worse, only need to get through another 5 minutes. 5 agonizing, god awful minutes... You can do this Frank.'_ Just as Mr. Deeds was about to regale the math class with the gruesome story of the time he had knee surgery, they were saved by the bell. Frank supposed everyone was as disgusted as himself, seeing as how they all practically charged for the door, trampling over each other to leave. Once Frank got out, he spotted a familiar face coming out of his English class. A passing sea of frantic freshmen made it hard for Frank to even pass through the hall.

"Oi, 'Fro!" Frank shouted at Ray to catch his attention. When Frank had finally gotten over to his friend, he sighed, "Jesus fucking Christ I hate math class. You don't even know how lucky you are to not have Deeds. He was really about to show us his fucking surgery scars when the bell rang. I think one girl was about to puke."

"Uh wrong, I'd love a teacher who wastes time in class," Ray joked.

"Let's be real. I'm not gonna pay attention whether they're teaching or wasting time. But I'm not here to be looking at no scars on that old man's hair legs!" Frank laughed. "How was class for you though?" He asked Ray.

"It was a total drag, got a shit ton of homework, that jackass... and my stomach wouldn't shut up the whole time either. I'm so glad it's lunch time."

Frank replied with a little nod, adding, "Fuck, me too. Oh and uh, we're definitely going through the halls this time. I ain't walking past Jordan for nothing. They're probably looking for us today, you know..."

Ray smiled, wrapping his arm around Frank jokingly. "Aw come on, you got your savior with you today. I'll protect you, Princess Frankie!" He giggled.

"Oh shut the hell up, I totally could've taken Jordan on my own."

"Yeah, it reeaallyy looked like you had shit under control yesterday," Ray teased. Frank rolled his eyes. Regardless, he did not want a repeat of yesterday. He really wanted to just be invisible again. It was a slightly longer walk going through the school, but it was well worth avoiding the risk of getting beaten into the ground. Frank needed his halfway-decent-looking face saved for Mr. Way. Black eyes, a bloody nose, and a couple broken bones wasn't going to impress anyone.

They finally got to Section A and entered the double doors leading to the lunchroom. There was much hustle and bustle going on towards the center. Ray and Frank started pushing their way to the front. It was a full fledged fight.

Well...not exactly. More like one unfortunate freshman getting helplessly pummeled to death by three of Belleville's finest douchebag seniors. Students formed a perfect circle around the rumble to watch, all cheering and whooping for no one in particular, just cheering for the violence. This was a commonplace occurrence, one that everyone was desensitized to. Nobody dared to intervene though - that would only avert the three idiots' attention away from the kid to themselves. Helping would be a suicide mission, everyone knew it. It made Frank absolutely sick. He knew that poor kid probably didn't do anything, nothing more than an accidental bump or shove to one of the seniors. But that was all it took to provoke them. A gut wrenching feeling was pitted in Frank's stomach, urging him to help the student. He had been in that situation plenty of times, giving cause for him to sympathize. But what was there to do? Those seniors wouldn't listen if you tried to talk to them. If, somehow, someone managed to get them to leave the freshman the hell alone, they would just go after someone else. It's just one of those unspoken laws of high school bullies.

Teachers and faculty never got involved or tried to separate the fighting students out fear of lawsuits from the kids' rich mommies and daddies. Looking into the fighting pit, Frank could see the son of a lawyer, the son of a doctor, the son of a CEO. All of them had more money than they knew what to do with, and that gave their kids an advantage over the rules. Enough money to where they could order the school system to bend over and take it up the ass. Teachers turned a blind eye for those delinquents. Punishments were rarely dealt out for things like this, yet Frank somehow got in detention for listening to music. Really makes sense doesn't it? Frank continued to stand there and watch, recalling the pent up anger he felt from when no one had helped him when he was in that position. Maybe that's why he was bitter- why should he be nice now when nobody came to his aid? That code of "treat others the way you want to be treated" simply didn't apply here.

After another minute of pleads and screams passed when the bullies grew tired of beating up the kid and left the room nonchalantly. I guess you can only punch someone in the stomach, crotch, and face so many times before it gets old. A skinny, awkward-looking male with glasses, who Frank assumed was the victim's friend, ran to his side, helped him up, and half-walked-half-carried him to the nurse. Blood was running down his face, probably from a broken nose or scratches. Students, no longer interested, dispersed to their tables and carried on like it had never happened. Frank guessed that to them, it didn't. It wasn't reality for those it didn't affect. For Frank, however, it was surreal.

By that time, Frank's appetite was totally gone. He'd almost forgotten that Ray was standing beside him. When he looked over, Ray seemed as sick as Frank was with the whole matter. Their happy, joking attitudes from before were gone. The boys walked to their table, solemn with the recent events still fresh in their minds. Before long, Mikey entered, bought his lunch and sat down. He had gotten chicken tenders, mashed potatoes with gravy, small, cubed carrots and an 8oz. bottle of water.

"Told you I wouldn't ditch today dude!" Mikey said with a smile. It was apparent that he'd completely missed the fight. Ray went up to the line and got the same lunch as Mikey. When he got back, the three stayed silent for a while, as Frank eyed them pushing around their food with plastic forks.

Ray was the one to break the silence. "So, um, Mikey, where'd you run off to yesterday?" Mikey's eyes widen and his back straightened. He seemed to go completely stiff.

"Well, I.. I, well..." he trailed off. Sighing, he set his fork on a napkin and folded his hands together. "I just, uh, don't know how I feel about this new teacher, so I just... didn't show up to class. Oh and I was just asking him what I missed during lunch yesterday. Uh, yeeeah, simple as that." Now something was definitely off. No matter how many attempts Frank made to make eye contact, he avoided it, staring straight at his hands. Mikey's such a terrible liar, and had been as long as Frank had known him. Frank wasn't sure how to respond to that without coming off like he was accusing anything, but after a while, he didn't have to.

Mikey started in, clearly bothered by my last question, "Well Frank, here's a question for you. Why were you in Mr. Way's room after school?" Oh. Shit. Frank had been caught. But how? How the hell did Mikey see? If Frank did ask how he knew, the story he'd told Ray wouldn't match up and that would be like admitting he was, in fact, in the classroom. It was Frank's turn to stutter.

"Well, I was, uh... I was-"

"He was asking me a question about an assignment in my Creative Writing class. It wasn't an inconvenience at all, just a quick question. Isn't that right Frank?" That voice made Frank's heart swoon. Two strong hands gripped his shoulders, giving them a reassuring squeeze. It was Mr. Way coming to his rescue. Where had he even appeared from? Impeccable timing, though- how he did that, Frank had no idea.

"YES! Uh, yes. Good thing, too. I nearly did the whole thing wrong, haha," Frank said, faking a smile. It almost wasn't fake though, he couldn't help but smile around Gerard.

"Yes well I hope you didn't have any problems with your homework, Frank. You can ask me a question anytime you need. I'll catch you later in seventh period." With that, he walked off, just as abrupt as he appeared. Frank watched him stroll along, blatantly staring at his ass and the way his hips swayed. _'I wonder if he does that on purpose now, just to see if I'll look.'_

When Frank turned back around, his friends were staring, rather confusedly. He shrugged their odd looks off. _'Why had he covered for me? Maybe just to be nice? Or maybe to hide something from Mikey... I'm still not sure about those two, something odd is going on between them,'_ Frank's brain accused.The bell sounded, spitting Frank back into the real world. He all but ran from the table.

"Okay, what was that all about Frank? Mikey you too. We need to talk-wait, Frank!" Ray hollered after them. Frank was already gone though. He really didn't want to talk about all this until he talked to Gerard, got their stories straight. Not that there was much of one.

Economics went by quickly again. It consisted of writing a few definitions, some textbook readings, a couple questions here and there, but that was mostly it. Ms. Jordy still didn't have her shit together, so it was like a free period for the most part. Frank finished his Trig worksheet before class ended. In English, Mrs. Fair was passing out copies of books for their first novel study. The first book was going to be Dante's Inferno. Frank had heard of it before, but never really cared to read it. 100 pages read and annotated were due by next Monday, completed with additional notes and definitions to be discussed later. She then proceeded to pass out a small packet of questions for each chapter. Frank glanced over at Ray, who he guessed was ignoring him. Ray was still pissed about Frank storming out of the cafeteria.

Mrs. Fair dedicated the remaining part of the period to begin reading. Frank entirely ignored that request and listened to the rest of "Damaged" by Black Flag. He would've finished the album earlier, had it not been interrupted by that old hag Mrs. Cothran. Every time the teacher looked at Frank, he pretended to read (more like stared at the page til she looked away). The clock couldn't have moved any slower. _'Ugghhh, 3 more minutes....' 'Two....' One....!'_ RIIINNG! Everyone stood at once and shuffled out. Frank threw the new book into his bag and made way for last period. He was on his way to Creative Writing, where he would probably end up writing 10% of the time and staring at Mr. Way 90% of the time.

The nearer he got, he faster his heart raced. _'I only have to make it through this class. Just don't think too much about Mr. Way, or his lovely hair or perfect skin or firm ass or-STOP IT!'_ A lot was going through his mind. _'What am I going to say? What is he going to say? What is he going to do? What do I want him to do?'_ That last question sent his head into a spiral.

Frank entered the classroom. It was only about half full at that point, so Frank took his usual spot near the back. As he pulled out a writing pad, someone approached.

"Mind if I sit here - Frank, wasn't it?" It was that redheaded Terra girl from Art. _'Since when was she in my writing class?'_ he wondered.

"Yeah, whatever," Frank responded unenthusiastically. She smiled, taking the seat to Frank's right. She pulled out her notebooks and pencil. Printed pictures were plastered on the front of her binder, ranging from the Misfits logo to Breaking Bad to Batman. It was everything Frank liked all on a book. _'Oh god, I bet she's one of those hipster chicks that pretend to be into the 'old stuff' and 'hates mainstream'.'_

"So you like Misfits? What's your favorite song?" Frank was sure he had her.

"Favorite song? It's impossible to pick just one! Probably something from "Walk Among Us" but I'm not sure..." she answered. Okay, so maybe she knew a little bit about them. Big deal. A single album just wasn't gonna cut it for Frank.

"Which era ya like better?" Now that as a real Misfits test, it usually weeded out the true fans from posers. Frank couldn't help but be so fucking elitist sometimes. 

"Danzig, hands down," she replied with a smirk. Frank narrowed his eyes slightly, then smiled. "It's a shame, I think they went downhill with Graves. Yeah, I guess he's alright, but Danzig was better, ya know?"

"Hmm, gotta admit, you know more than the average person." Frank had to give her credit. This chick wasn't so bad. "What other bands do you like?" He probed.

"The Ramones, Green Day, Red Hot Chili Peppers, Queen, Nirvana-"

"Really? Name three other songs besides Smells Like Teen Spirit off of "Nevermind." Now if she could get this, Frank would be amazed. His hopes weren't that high though.

"Lithium, Come as You Are, and In Bloom," she responded, that classic 'try me bitch' look covering her face. "Have I earned your approval yet, or are you going to keep testing me? I know do know my bands, jackass," she teased with a smile. This girl was as fiery as the red locks on her head.

"Oh I'll leave you alone... for now," Frank joked back. _'Did I just make a friend? No, that did not just happen. Or maybe it did? Someone call up Guinness World Records, I have a total of 3 friends now. Imagine that, it only took 11 years of schooling... Surely that's some kind of record, right?'_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hope everyone's having a good weekend!!


	7. Fuck Formalities

The last bell rang, and students were hurrying to their seats as Mr. Way stepped in the room. "Afternoon class, hope you're not worn out already because you've got stories to write!" A few people started up with a chorus of groans in response. "Yeah yeah, I know. Trust me I wanna go home too, but we've got to get down to brass tax now. They ain't gonna write themselves," he said, throwing a hand in the air. Frank loved the different layers to Mr. Way's personality. He could switch from shy to sassy to serious on a dime. It only made him more adorable. "So last night, I went through the short stories and graded them. Uh, striped hoodie, pass these out for me, would you?" Mr. Way continued talking as the student did as he asked. "They were all pretty decent for your first attempt. Frank, Terra, I applaud you guys. Both of your writings were fantastic!" Frank glanced over at Terra, who then returned his look. Frank silently hoped his face wasn't as red as hers.

When Frank got his poem back, there was a large 100% circled in red on the back. Terra's had the same. Mr. Way cleared his throat, then said, "Okay that was a fun little 'get to know you' project. Now let's get started with your first for real assignment. Everyone find a partner in the next thirty seconds, GO!" Group projects had never been Frank's forte. He was, by default, a loner. Frank sat there like an idiot as everyone else rushed to grab their best friends. It seemed like such an easy task for everybody else. Everyone except Frank.

"You'll be my partner, won't you Frank?" Terra asked. Frank only looked at her, unsure of what to say. "Come on, it won't be so bad. I bet we're the best writers in here." She proceeded to yank his desk over to join hers.

Scooting his chair over, Frank sighed, "Alright alright, but no bossing me around, got it?" Terra rolled her eyes.

When the thirty seconds was up, Mr. Way started talking again. "Cool, so I see everyone has a partner." He started skimming his eyes over the groups, nodding in approval. When he got to Frank and Terra, however, his smile faltered. He quickly recovered, but those intense eyes didn't. They looked hurt. He shook slightly and moved on away from the duo. It was such a quick transition, Frank figured he must have imagined it. _'No, that was your imagination, he doesn't care about you... not like that. And you know it,'_ Frank scolded internally.

"Alright, I want the two of you to work together to create a short scene for a movie or play. It can be any genre - horror, comedy, romance, you pick. Make it school appropriate. Maybe 4-5 minutes in length when read. Other than that, no restrictions. You only have a few days to collaborate, so get to work. I'll be at my desk if you need anything."

Coming up with an idea proved to be quite a challenge. "Let's just do something simple," Frank pleaded.

"No, no, no. Mr. Way digged our last pieces. He's gonna expect a lot from us in this project. We could do some sort of comedy. I don't know about you, but I have no problem coming up with sarcastic shit off the fly," she argued.

"I don't know man, not a lot of people appreciate my twisted, dry humor. Horror seems too obvious though. I bet a lot of people are doing that," Frank combated.

"Fine, Mr. Hard Ass, do you have any suggestions then?" She asked. Frank stayed silent. Sure, Frank had plenty of ideas, just not good ones, or ones he wasn't comfortable enough to share. "Look, we only have about 20 minutes left." That meant 25 minutes until Frank's meeting with Gerard. "What if we just start free-writing and check back in with each other tomorrow? Maybe can decide on something then," Terra suggested.

"I guess if that's what you wanna do. Seeing as how we can't come up with anything else, that sounds like the best option." Right away, Terra began scribbling ideas down furiously while Frank sat there, staring at the blank paper. Every now and then he would pick up the pencil and hold it like he was about to write something. But then nothing would come to him, and he would untriumphantly sit the pencil down again. Usually all sorts of bizarre and macabre visions wove themselves throughout Frank's ideas. Things like undead ballerinas, Harry Houdini's last performance, parades that led him to the afterlife... Today, though, Frank couldn't conjure up anything remotely that interesting. It's like all of Frank's creative juices were poured out into the lyrics he had written yesterday, now all dried up and useless. This 20 minutes could not have lasted longer.

Frank couldn't help but overhear the other teams' ideas. One group was doing a modern Romeo and Juliet spin-off which sounded incredibly stupid and sappy to Frank. Another group was thinking about doing a serious Shakespearian type monologue. Nothing sounded great, which was disappointing but not that surprising. Everything was just so boring and shallow.

With that, Frank broke out of his speculations and into the real world again. He looked over at Terra, who was still writing frantically. She had already written about a full page, little notes here and there, things scratched out and inserted. It looked like an atomic bomb had been filled with words and then exploded all over her paper. She finally stopped to catch her breath once the bell rang. When she looked up, she scanned her own paper and smiled contentedly. She then looked over at his blank paper, then up at Frank with a glare.

"You had half a class period to write and got nothing done? Really?" she said exasperatedly.

Frank didn't really know how to respond. "It's just writer's block, I guess. Chill, I'll bring in solid ideas tomorrow."

She shook her head, clearly annoyed, and started packing up her things. "Better have something tomorrow, don't think for a second that I'll be doing all the work, Iero." Damn she was feisty. She threw her backpack over her shoulder and left without another word. Frank hadn't actually realized how short she until that moment. Finding someone shorter than himself was a downright miracle. It was usually due to a birth defect or disease, but for her it was normal. She had a lot of bite packed into her short frame, just like Frank.

Just like the day before, Mr. Way announced he'd be back in a few minutes, leaving Frank and the few remaining kids alone to pack up their belongings. When the last kid had left, it was maybe another 30 seconds before the teacher returned, a dazzling grin gracing his face.

"Frankie, so glad to see you. Was today any better?" Gerard motioned over to two seats for them to sit down at.

"Actually, it was pretty fuck- I mean, freaking awful," Frank said with a groan.

"Hey Frankie, it's all good, you don't have to censor yourself right now. I don't give a damn if you swear. Same with calling me 'mister'. Fuck formalities, you know?" Gerard laughed before reaching out to touch Frank's arm. "You can be yourself around me."

Frank thought his heart was going to climb up into his throat. That sudden blood rush he got just from having Mr. Way touch him made his eyesight fuzzy. Frank cleared his throat, thinking it might crack if he didn't. "Well I fucking got detention on Friday just for listening to music, and I had to see some poor kid get his ass handed to him in the cafeteria. Not to mention the people who did it didn't even get in trouble. This school's fucked up, man. I hate having to be here another year, and it's already harder than I thought it was going to be. And I have no clue what to write for this new assignment. I'm just kinda freaking out a little right now, you know?" Frank conveniently left out the detail that the main reason he was bugged out was because of Gerard. He knew damn well he couldn't say something, for fear of losing this blooming relationship with the man.

"Awww Frankie, I'm sorry about your day. You're right, it's fucked up, but that's just the way life goes sometimes. Not everything's going to be fair, not everything's going to go your way, not everything will work out in your favor. You gotta roll with the punches sometimes, kiddo," Mr. Way reassured him. Hearing "kiddo" come out of Gerard's mouth was the last thing Frank wanted to hear. "But about the assignment, don't overthink it! Draw inspiration from your own life. So you hate this school? Well, make up a character that's all about fighting the system, who exacts revenge on those who wronged him. Add in some stuff from the comic books you read. Laser guns, masks, heroic feats, whatever you want, but make it your own. Simple as that," he said, reclining in his chair with a smirk on his face.

Frank stared at Mr. Way in awe, hypnotized by the way he spoke. It wasn't necessarily eloquent, but there was a level of ingenuity and imagination behind his voice. You could tell just by looking at him that his brain was always at work. No wonder he decided to become a fine arts teacher. "Yeah, I guess... no, you're totally right. And that sounds like a great idea actually. Hope you don't mind me stealing it," Frank laughed. Gerard also chuckled at his joke, sending fireworks through Frank's body. He thought Mr. Way had a truly adorable laugh. The two were silent a moment. Frank was trying to work up the courage to ask why Mr. Way and Mikey had been interacting so much over the past two days, but Mr. Way interrupted.

"So, how 'bout a song? I know you brought Pansy along with you. Learn anything new lately?"

"Actually, I uh, I composed some music of my own to go along with the poem I turned it yesterday. You don't have to listen to it, if you don't want, it's probably not even that g-"

"Of course I want to hear it!" Gerard exclaimed. He grabbed Frank's hands, holding them between his own. "Don't be so hard on yourself, you're amazingly talented, you know." Frank felt his breath hitch in his throat. Mr. Way was maybe half a foot away from his face, closer than he'd ever been before. Frank's eyes darted between Mr. Way's beautiful eyes and pink lips before stuttering out an 'o-okay.' He unzipped his guitar case, tuned it to C minor, and strummed away. There were only about seven chords in the whole thing, but Mr. Way was impressed nonetheless. Frank kept his head down mostly while he played. Closing his eyes or focusing on a singular object made him perform better, he thought. Once in a while though, he'd peak up to see Gerard beaming proudly at him. Mr. Way's eyes would rake down Frank's whole body, taking everything in.

When Frank was finished, Gerard applauded him. "I can't believe you churned that out in a single day, Frankie. You know, with your guitar skills and my singing abilities, we could be our own little band. Wouldn't that be something?"

Frank blushed. "There's no way guitar playing could ever match your singing."

"Funny," Gerard said, "I was thinking the opposite." The room went silent. The tension in the room was so apparent, but Frank convinced himself it was all in his head. In his mind, he was really hoping that Gerard couldn't hear how loud his heartbeat was. Frank checked over at the window of the door, wondering if Mikey was spying in like he apparently did yesterday. "You know, I've really been enjoying our time together. We could make this a regular thing, if you wanted..." Gerard trailed off, waiting to gauge Frank's reaction. Naturally, Frank thought it was a dream come true. His crush wanted to spend time with him!

"I'd love to! But, don't you think other people might get a little, well, weirded out about it?"

"Don't worry about that! If anyone asks, you're just getting a little extra help. Nothing wrong with that, right? You do have two classes with me, after all," Gerard smirked. He seemed to have already thought this out.

"Totally. I'll catch you later, Gerard. I just got an idea for the project that I need to write down. How do you feel about post-apocalyptic bandits fighting evil corporations in California?"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> lmao i had to edit it bc i totally forgot to put a title for the chapter


	8. Belleville Love Bug

The next couple day went rather swimmingly, in Frank's opinion. The routine of early mornings, 7 hour school days, followed by homework was slowly falling back into the normal place. Of course, seeing Mr. Way after school everyday certainly helped Frank to adjust. He had something to wake up for in the morning, something to push him through the day. Their meetings after school went innocently enough, consisting of banter about school life and Frank's new art project and some more off topic subjects like new Netflix shows. Frank's classes were running smoothly as well. Terra was absolutely in love with Frank's idea about futuristic outlaws, immediately setting out to make an outline for the dialogue and story-line for the two to build off of. The project was practically writing itself at that point. Friday finally rolled around, meaning the first week of senior year already was drawing to a close.

When he woke up that Friday morning, it was only a few minutes past 7 am. Frank had to all but drag his lifeless shell of a body out of bed and into the bathroom, where he took a quick shower. Afterwards, he pulled out a grey denim button up shirt - a relic from the days of Catholic school - and black jeans, which were probably a size too small. Just how Frank liked them. The collar of the button up was pushed down enough to reveal a bit of Frank's scorpion tattoo that he'd gotten nearly a year ago. He generally kept it well hidden, seeing as how disappointed his mother got just by the site of it. The tattoo had been a major rebellion against, well, everything. His life, his school, his mother. Being her only kid, she had always been over-protective and kept Frank on a tight leash. "I just don't want my baby to grow up!" she would tell him. Frank always had an odd fascination of tattoos. Something about using your body as canvas to color and fill in intrigued him. They carried stories, memories, sentimental value in physical form. A picture really could hold a thousand words in that sense. Frank would spend hours searching the internet for good tattoo artists in New Jersey and New York, already formulating ideas for his next pieces. He wanted a ton more, but just didn't have to money to get them yet.

Frank adjusted his jeans, making sure everything was perfect and alluring 'in all the right places.' Frank surprised himself at the lengths he was going to to look good for one person... no one had ever had that affect on him before. He supposed love made you do wild things like that. He hadn't cared about personal appearance for years and now Mr. Way had gone and changed that about him.

All the way from upstairs, Frank heard a honk from the driveway. It was Toro, on time as usual. "See ya Mom!" Frank yelled, as he made his way down the steps. _'Shit, I hadn't told her I got detention yet. She's gonna be so pissed if I tell her though...'_ Frank was quick to come up with something. "Uh, I'll be home late. I'm hanging out with Ray after school," he called out. Well it technically was true...

"Alright, have fun!" she yelled back. Frank went out the door and set his crap down in the bed of the truck. Ray greeted him as he hopped in the passenger's seat.

"Hey shorty, someone's looking all dressed up. What's the occasion?" Ray asked, as he backed out onto the road.

"Kill the height jokes, Toro, or I'll bring back to afro puns." He was quiet after that. "That's what I thought. And nothing special. Just wanted to look decent instead of terrible for once. Did you have as much homework as me? Damn, it's like they already hate us. I read some of that infernal-no-Inferno book. Wasn't that bad, I've read worse. What'd you do yesterday?"

"Pretty much the same, worked on homework. I'm already tired of this year... and we're only a week in. But it's finally fucking Friday! We could go to the bookstore by Starbucks later or maybe GameStop, ya know, after you get out of detention. What the hell Frank? You're already asking to get expelled with that record of yours." Everyone knew Frank didn't give a shit about doing what was right. That applied to classmates, teachers, staff, the whole lot of them. Frank could be a little hard to be around with his temper and attitude sometimes, even Ray admitted it. Frank could bite someone's head off in an instant if they got him riled up enough. Lord knows why Ray and Mikey stick around...

"Well screw Cothran for being a bitch. It was just music!" Frank defended. "And I had plenty else to say to that jackass beside me. Would've if she hadn't interrupted..." Ray only laughed at that. He knew Frank would have told that kid off in a heartbeat.

"Yeah yeah, hold yourself back next time okay? Can't have you staying after school when we could be doing something," he chastised. Oh Ray, always the worrier.

"Yes sir Daddy 'Fro," Frank teased, chuckling. Soon after the school came into view. Cheerleaders were standing outside in their usual cliques consisting of other cheerleaders and their boyfriends. You could see the terrible, overpowering makeup from a mile back, increasingly getting worse as you got closer. It made Frank want to run for the hills. Ray wasn't into the makeup, but he certainly appreciated the tight skirts and low tops. Over the years of working at the mechanics shop, he had acquired muscles and was pretty buff. Girls were starting to notice, which he was loving. He currently had his eyes set for one chick in particular named Christa. She had a fair complexion, nice teeth, and wavy dark brown hair. Ray was starting to get popular, which concerned Frank. He was happy for him of course, that he was getting new friends and hanging with cooler people and being overall appreciated for the great personality he is, but the thought of losing him as a best friend was intimidating. Frank admittedly sucked at relationships. He could somehow screw them up unintentionally. Ray has been the only person to stick around longer than a few years. Hell, they'd been buddies since 3rd grade! Losing him now when Frank needed all the support he could get would crush him. It made Frank fear a relationship with Gerard even more.

Ray pulled into an empty space, nearly crashing into another car's bumper for staring Christa. She was standing near the entrance, like she was waiting. "Look Frank, love you buddy, but I've gotta ditch you. I'm supposed to meet up with Christa so we can talk before class. I'll catch up with you later," he promised as he gathered his things together.

"It's cool, you go have fun ya crazy kid," Frank laughed while getting out of the truck.

"Thanks man, you're the best!" He said before jogging off casually to go meet her.

From behind, Frank shouted, "Don't be a fool, wrap your tool!" Ray whipped his head around and flipped Frank off. Frank smiled. _'Our metal loving, quiet Ray is all grown up.'_ Four years ago when the two entered high school together, they both would've never guessed they'd end up with someone. They were the pathetic weird kids. Ray was quiet and too shy to talk to other people. Frank was just insignificant, still was in his own mind. Now look at them, taking all these risks. Ray was tough and cool, going after his dream girl and gaining popularity. Sure, Frank thought he was still uncool and short as ever, but he was going after the sexiest teacher at this hellhole school. Yep, that was what life had become for the two friends.

The hallways were bustling with juniors and seniors all talking about their weekend plans and 'back to school' parties - None of which Frank was invited to, not that he honestly cared. If he was, by some miracle, invited to a party, he probably wouldn't show up anyway. Socializing wasn't for him, especially when 99.9% of the school's population was either a dipshit or jackass. If you didn't fit into one of those categories, well, high school wasn't going to be the best experience for you. Frank entered homeroom and glared daggers at Mrs. Cothran who was avoiding the gaze. Frank really hated her right now, the bitch. The one afternoon he had plans for, she ruined for him. "Screw you," he muttered under his breath.

Homeroom passed by relatively fast. It meant he didn't have to see that old hag's face for much longer. He'd soon be graced with Gerard's presence. Well no, he was about to see Mr. Way. 'Gerard' was usually reserved for those momentous occasions that they could be alone. Announcements came over the intercom, saying there'd be a pep-rally at 2:45. Frank had a love/hate relationship with those. Pep-rallies at Belleville meant everyone had to go outside and hang out with people. The school usually paid for a few food vendors to come to sell food and sometimes they'd hire a DJ to play music. They did get everyone out of class for the last 45 minutes of the day and teachers let us leave a few minutes early. Unfortunately, Frank wouldn't be able to take advantage of that because of Mrs. Cothran and her callous attitude.

The bell sounded, signaling students to head to second period. Frank bolted for C Hall, Mikey in the tow. He soon caught up. "So do you have any ideas for your painting yet?"

"Oh, um nothin' yet. Haven't given it much thought, but I'm sure something'll come to me eventually. What about you?" Frank asked, attempting to make small talk to distract himself from thoughts of Gerard. _'What will he be wearing today? I'm sure he'll look as captivating as he normally does. He could wear a Hawaiian shirt and khaki shorts and still look sexy as fuck.'_

"Nah, not yet. I got a sketch of an idea done in class. I'm not sure if I'll go with it or not." Mikey was an artsy guy. Frank had seen his sketchbook before (against his will) and it was awesome. Page after page was filled with comic book superheroes, magically lands, hybrid animals, and robo-humans. The amount of detail he was able to put in the tiniest things was amazing. Unfortunately, Mikey was extremely apprehensive when it came to sharing his works. Frank had known him for years and Mikey hardly ever let him see it a glimpse of it for God's sake! He's always mumbling that they aren't good or were 'just doodles' when in reality they belong on display for the public to see.

Entering the art room with little time to spare, Frank spotted Terra, donning a maroon coloured Ramones shirt that matched her ponytailed hair and black denim shorts. She had taken the liberty to save him his usual desk. Mikey took the next desk over. It was nice to be surrounded by some of his favorite people for once. Mr. Way immediately started class, looking magnificent as ever. Black truly was his best colour. The stark contrast between his black button up and his smooth, pale skin was the very definition of angelic. Something about it really brought out his eyes, with the help of a thin yet dark layer of eyeliner. His haunting gaze met with Frank's dark hazel, almost chocolaty eyes. He smiled a shit-eating grin as he inspected me head to toe. The ways his eyes kept moving up and down - almost hungrily - was enough to make Frank blush.

"Good morning kiddos. Hope your creative juices are flowing because it's art time!" he exclaimed in a sing-song voice. "Okay, so today I would like you to try and get your some sketches done with your final idea. I'll be at my desk doing God knows what if you need something. About 20 minutes in I'll cruise through to see what you have. Get started so you'll have plenty of time to finish," he instructed. The class immediately erupted into fitful noise as people got supplies out to work. He tried hushing them down a bit, but to no avail. Frank pulled out a sketchpad and pencils, as did Mikey and Terra. After a few minutes of sketching, Frank noticed Mikey glancing cautiously over at Terra, who was hard at work. Frank looked over at him and he quickly resumed drawing. Frank tore out a piece of paper to write on.

_What's wrong?_

He accepted the paper, scribbled something down before passing it back with his neat scrawl on it.

_Nothing, I think I know her from one of my other classes. Is this the girl you have a crush on? Ray said you were into someone, but didn't know who._

_No, we're just friends. Sorta. I only started talking to her the other day._

Terra glanced over to me and gave a lopsided smile before returning to her work. Mikey kept staring at the note. It took a while, but he eventually gave it back. It only had two words.

_She's pretty..._

Those two words ignited the bubbliest feeling inside Frank. He read it over and over before turning to find a beet red Mikey gazing sheepishly at his paper. Frank began to write back.

_Holy shit Mikey! You need to get your ass in gear and talk to her. Oh you'd be so cute together! She's pretty cool and has great taste in music-I bet she likes comic books! You guys could be that artsy couple you know! Oh Mikes pleaseeee???_

_I don't know..._

Was he kidding? If Frank had to bet money, Mikey was easily the shyest introvert he'd ever known. Frank shot him a 'If you don't talk to her I swear I'll kill you in your sleep' look. He only averted his eyes and continued working. He didn't even talk-well, write to Frank for the rest of class.

Mr. Way had left his desk and began walking around, looking over shoulders, making an occasional comment. Much to his dismay, Frank realized he still didn't have anything done, and they only had another 20 minutes maybe. He grabbed a pencil and started drawing. Just drawing. He left it up to his imagination, completely zoning out and retreating to his inner brain. Shading here and there, streaks of charcoal, hints of red were sprinkled throughout it. It wasn't until Mr. Way was right behind him that he reentered the real world. He sat back and observed the sketch. _'I didn't know I was capable of doing that...'_

"Frankie," Mr. Way spoke next to his face. Frank almost jolted at the word. "It's absolutely breathtaking. I would hang that in my house! Oh and uh," he lowered his voice, speaking directly into Frank's ear, "I saw you and Michael passing notes. Might get you in trouble if I wasn't allowing everyone to talk. Such a trouble maker," He laughed, sending a spark right down to Frank's lower abdomen. Even after he moved on to the next student, Frank could just feel him smirking, even with his back turned.

Frank looked back to his paper. _'Did I really just draw that?'_ It pictured a cathedral with grand pillars, stain glass windows, and painted ceilings. In between the main row of pews was a distorted ballerina donned in all black. She reminded Frank a bit of Gerard with the lengthy ebony locks, pale skin, and lightly colored lips. People were kneeling, heads bent in prayer. Their eyes were shut, completely oblivious of her dancing among the congregation. She seemed to bound all around them and across the paper. Even with the distortions and abstractness of it all, it still managed to appear life-like. The cause of his inspiration was unknown to him-the artist! Whatever he had retreated to in the depths of his mind was dark, yet somehow produced this beautiful work of art. Frank couldn't help but wonder what other imagery he was capable of creating.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> leave me comments if ur enjoying :)))))


	9. That's Life

Lunch rolled around much sooner than Frank expected. With Ray by his side, he strolled into the cafeteria, set his bag down at their table, and went through the line to get his meal. Today's lunch consisted of veggie nuggets, creamed corn, and a dinner roll.

"Could be worse," Frank admitted to Ray, "Remember back in middle school when they'd serve us that 'mystery meat'? Is that shit even legal to give to kids?"

"I don't know man, but I swear to God that shit was horse meat. No doubt. And remember those 'cupcakes' they gave us that one time?" Ray asked.   
Frank nodded his head, smiling, "You mean the cornbread muffins with melted icing on top? Yeah, how could I forget? I think I sat there laughing the whole period about it." Around that time, Mikey came waltzing in, sitting beside his buddies with a tray of food in hand.

Frank immediately started in teasing him. "Oooooh, there he is, the man of the hour. Ray, get this, Mikey's got a cruuuush," he badgered.

Ray played right along, "Oh you don't say? My my, guess the love bug's been biting everyone at Belleville lately. Come on Mikes, who's the lucky lady?"

Mikey's face flushed a light pink. "Oi, pull your head out of your ass. I don't have a crush on anybody."

Frank chimed in, "That's not what the note in art said!" Mikey shot Frank dagger eyes, but Frank was already pulling the paper out of his pocket to show Ray, who was giggling like a school girl the second he laid eyes on it.

"Alright, well while you two fuckheads sit here rubbing one out to an insignificant note, I gotta go check up on things for the pep rally. They're making me and a another senior or two work the soundboard since we're the only seniors in the music class. It's kinda lame in there, but you guys can come sit in the sound booth if you get bored," Mikey offered. "I'll catch you guys later."

"Bye loverboy!" Ray and Frank said in unison, to which Mikey responded with double middle fingers.

When they turned back around, Ray sighed, "I hate to break it to you Frank, but you know I'm going to be hanging out with Christa the whole time probably. So uh, you'll kinda be alone the whole time. But it's all good, we still got our hang out session after detention's over with right?"

"Yeah yeah, ditching your bro for a hoe. I see how it is, Toro," Frank joked. "I'm kidding dude, you two have fun. You need to introduce me one day soon though."

"Will do, short stacks!" Soon after, the bell rang and everyone was off to 5th period. Frank, for once, had actually completed his homework and managed to turn it in on time. Ms. Jordy, having had Frank in a previous year, was completely shocked, telling him to keep up the good work. Next came 6th period, which ran just about as smoothly. Frank used the class to get some of his reading done, half assing the annotations and packet along the way. He'd be damned if the teachers thought he'd be caught doing homework over the weekend.

Being on pep rally schedule sadly meant that seventh period was cut, meaning no extra time class time with Mr. Way. After 6th period commenced, the entire student body reported to the gym where each grade did their class chants and sang the alma mater. Frank found it all a bit cult-ish. Over the years, he'd been to far too many to care about the hype. He chose to sit down at the top of the bleachers while everyone else stood up, yelling and waving their arms about. He thought that perhaps he was isolating himself by refusing to participate, but surely there must be other people who felt the same as him. He scanned his class section to find that he, like always, was the only one sitting.

After the alma mater, everyone filed outside to enjoy the class games and DJ. Frank, who was tuned into his own music, rested underneath a large red oak for a few minutes, merely observing. A few miscellaneous kids followed suit, sitting in small groups and ignoring the festivities. Ray, looking dopey as ever, was in the distance chatting with Christa around his arm and a few other people Frank didn't know. There was just so much chemistry between them, it was like they were made for one another. Frank sighed. _'I wish someone would hold me like that, look at me so lovingly...'_ His happiness died down at that thought, turning into jealousy and envy. It wasn't that he was jealous of Ray being with Christa or vice versa, it was the idea of being in a relationship that he coveted. The way they talked made it look so easy, like it completely natural. They could be themselves, knowing no one would judge them. Frank silently wished them the best. Scanning around once again, he noticed that Terra was nowhere to be seen. Frank wanted to stay in the shade and sketch, but he was fearful that Jordan or some other prick might spot him. He was pretty vulnerable since no one else was around to cover him. Instead, he strode off to the sound booth to find Mikey.

The sound booth was inside the school on the second level of the auditorium. It was a small room dedicated to holding all the audio and visual equipment and was used mainly for pep rallies or school plays. Up the stairwell Frank ventured. He'd been up there plenty of times. Not because he was involved with any school activities, but because it was the perfect hideout spot for skipping. In fact, since the door was almost always left locked, Frank had perfected the art of picking the lock using only a bobby pin. He knew could just knock and have Mikey unlock it for him, but where was the fun in that? Frank wanted to sneak up and scare the shit out of him. _'Alright let's see. Stick it in, bend it a little... little pressure here, wiggle the knob a bit, little pressure there and...'_ A satisfying 'click' indicated he'd successfully unlocked it. Being a bit of delinquent did have its usefulness. Frank slowly cracked the door open, ready to shout "BOO!" at his friend.

Instead, what Frank saw stopped him completely dead in his tracks, mouth agape. There in the producer's chair was Mikey himself, with Terra straddling his lap as they made out with each other. Frank had to do a double take. Was that truly his shy, quiet friend Mikey? Who claimed he didn't have a crush? That was definitely Terra on top of him. That fiery hair was unmistakable.

Mikey peeped an eye open to look at Frank. "What the fuck??" Frank mouthed at him. Mikey took one of his hands off of Terra's ass to furiously wave Frank out of the room. Frank took the hint, quietly shutting the door back and all but ran back down the stairs. Once at the bottom, he started laughing his ass off, pulling out his phone to text Ray.

_Frank: You'll never believe what I just saw dude!_   
_Ray: Did some freshmen kick Jordan's ass or something?_   
_Frank: Even better! I'll tell you after school._

Frank sat down at the foot of the steps, deciding that that would be the spot where he spent his next hour since his original spot was, well, occupied. It was much cooler inside than out in that afternoon August heat. He couldn't help but continue to laugh at the spectacle he just witnessed. _'Who knew Mikes had it in him?'_ He joked with himself.

The next hour was spent watching Youtube videos and drawing little cartoons on Frank's English worksheets. He didn't really want the hour to end, knowing that he'd have to go sit in detention for the next hour in complete silence. No phones, no music, no talking. He'd probably be forced to do some sort of busy work. Much to his dismay, the final bell of the day rang, dismissing everyone from school premises. Everyone except Frank, of course, who trudged off to the detention room. It wasn't really room; it was more like a glorified janitor's closet with about 5 desks or so crammed in it. The rest of the space was filled with theatre props and stands and mics for choir.

Upon entering, Frank gave the coach overseeing the detention session his name so he could check it off the list. He took a seat at the desk closest to the door. The second the hour was up, he was going to bolt for that door and be out before anyone else. This happened all like clockwork for Frank. This clearly wasn't his first (or probably last) time to detention. A couple other kids shuffled in. When everyone had sat, the coach announced, "Welcome to the next hour of your lives. I want to be here as much you idiots do, which means not at all. However, by the looks of it, each of you did something to deserve ending up here, whereas I'm here for no reason other than your principal chose to have my time wasted here. If you talk, use your phones, or otherwise do anything to piss me off, then you'll get yet another detention for next week. Got it?" Everyone nodded their heads silently. "Good. Don't bother me. If you have to use the bathroom, well, you should've thought of that before you got here." With that, the coach kicked his feet up and pulled out a newspaper to distract himself with.

Frank, bored before the detention had even officially begun, stared at the carvings on the desk in front of him. Initials, hearts, and straight lines were all engraved on the gray surface. With the pads of his finger, he traced over the lines. Someone had colored the edges of it black with their pencil.

In another attempt to distract himself, Frank began counting seconds. _'One Mississippi, two Mississippi, three Mississippi, four... five... six...'_ and so on. The intercom's beeping interrupted Frank's counting. "Can Mr. Dolton please report to the front office?" Frank couldn't help but wonder what they needed him for. Maybe he was in trouble from stealing someone's lunch out of the teacher's work room. Maybe he was about to get chewed out for cussing some student out. Maybe he was a Soviet spy and had been found out about by the government and was getting apprehended. Yeah, that last one definitely seemed like the most plausible reason. A few minutes later, yet another announcement was made. "Can the owner of the blue Honda Civic report to East lot? Your car alarm is going off." Frank almost wanted to say it was his, just so he could leave the room for a few minutes. Knowing he had neither car keys or even a license on him, he decided against it, slinking back in his chair, defeated. 10 minutes hadn't even gone by, and he was ready to crawl out of his skin.

Just then, there was a calm knocking at the door. The coach stood to open it. Frank couldn't believe his eyes. "Hello, Coach Hinton! I'm Mr. Way, the new arts teacher. Do you mind if I borrow one of your detention students for the remainder of the hour? The art room is absolutely filthy, and I don't think I can get it cleaned by myself. I figured wiping acrylic and clay up might be more of a punishment than just sitting here."

Coach Hinton seemed totally unfazed. "Yeah, whatever. Take whoever you want. I don't care, as long as you don't send them back. I don't want anymore interruptions."

Mr. Way smiled, "Absolutely. Hmm," his eyes scanned over the room before landing on Frank. "You, come with me, I got work for you." Frank could hardly contain his joy. He was nearly tripping over his own feet as he gathered his stuff and headed for the exit. Mr. Way held the door open for him, shutting it as the left. A few steps out into the hallway, Mr. Way smirked, "Made that shit up on the spot, you know."

"Dude you're the best! You're, like, my fucking hero," Frank praised. "I was ready to hang myself from the ceiling tiles 'cuz I was so bored."

"Well I remembered you saying you had detention from earlier this week. Couldn't stand leaving in there to waste away."

Frank shook his head, "I totally would've if it hadn't been for you. So where are we off to?" Frank asked.

Mr. Way sheepishly replied, "Well uh, I hope you don't mind, but the art room is actually pretty cluttered. It won't take too long to clean up, I promise. Better than nothing, am I right?" Frank would trade anything to have a few extra minutes with Mr. Way. Trading detention of all things was a total win-win.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> :^)))))) get this to the youtube trending page lmao


	10. Don't Stop Me

The walk to the art room was a silent one. It was comfortable silence though. Talking seemed out of place, seeing as how neither of them knew who would be around to listen in. Frank was always afraid of slipping up in front of Mr. Way. He definitely didn't want anyone else around to hear it if it did happen.

When they arrived, Mr. Way fished his keys out to unlock the door. After they were both inside, Mr. Way shut the door behind them, then went over to the cabinets to retrieve some washrags. Frank stood there looking around at all the mess. "Damn, you weren't kidding about it being filthy."

"Aw come on, it's not that bad. We'll clean it up in no time," he reassured.

"Eh, I guess. Oh fuck, I didn't bring Pansy today since I thought I wasn't gonna get to see you. I know how you like hearing the new stuff I've learned, so sorry about that..." Frank trailed off.

"No prob! I got us covered." Mr. Way went to his desk, opened a drawer, and pulled out a sleek, black iPod stereo with a dock. He set it on the counter and hooked in his phone. "Any requests?" Frank's mind went blank. Any other time he could pick out a band in an instant.

"How 'bout Queen?" Frank asked. Gerard nodded with a smile, pulling up a playlist. The awesome intro to Another One Bites The Dust started playing, getting him pumped. Gerard tossed him a wet rag to start wiping down the tables. His head was rocking back and forth in time with the music as he began cleaning. Queen had always been a big inspiration to Frank, with Freddie Mercury as an idol. Frank's mother listened to them a lot, especially when she was cleaning the house. She had album after album of theirs on vinyl. Every lyric of every song was ingrained into Frank's memory. Gerard's voice was heavenly as ever. He could hit every note, even those high runs, perfectly in tune. Frank never thought he could be that good. He was okay at singing and more of a guitar player, despite what other people had told him. Frank was getting lost in the music, lost in Gerard's voice, his eyes... he almost forgot he was supposed to be cleaning. They were just two guys, two friends having a good time.

Then again, seeing Gerard bent over the table was sending a lot of conflicting thoughts through his head. Gerard's muscles were becoming more defined from rubbing on the table hard, trying to get dried up paint off. Frank moved to the side of the table, trying to get a closer look at that ass. He knew he couldn't see him staring shamelessly at it, but even if he did, Frank wouldn't care. The song ended, switching to Don't Stop Me Now. Before long, Gerard turned to Frank, still singing along. He loosened his necktie, removing it in a torturously slow manner. Tingles were sent rippling throughout Frank's body. Frank started smirking at him, which he reciprocated. He twirled the tie around and started dancing, mostly swaying and jerking his hips around. It was enough to get Frank all worked up and eager.

Before he realized it, Gerard was strutting closer, a playful glint in his dark, breathtaking eyes. He wrapped his tie behind Frank's neck, looking deeply into his eyes. Frank stared right back, challenging him to come closer with a smirk, daring him to take another step. All in good humor, of course. Frank knew nothing would happen. This was just Gerard's way of having fun. Just two friends, right?

Using the tie, he forced Frank even closer. Frank stepped back, but Gerard just moved closer. Their mouths were merely inches apart. The final guitar solo riffed through the air, which now felt thick and heavy. Frank's head was swimming. The smell of cigarettes and coffee seeped into his nostrils. Frank continued moving backwards until he abruptly hit the table edge against the crease of his knees, sending him toppling backwards. He landed flat on his back, followed by Gerard landing on top of him. They both started laughing at their own stupidity, just like best friends would. He pushed himself off of Frank slightly, using his arms to support himself but still hovering above for a few seconds. His eyes were so dark then, clouded, but his smile was innocent as could be. With Gerard's hips pressed against his own, Frank had to bite down on his lip ring to prevent any possible noises he would regret. Gerard stood, extending a hand for Frank, which he gladly accepted. Gerard's raven locks were ruffled in the most adorable manner, a cheeky smile adorned his face.

Another song began playing, but Frank wasn't really paying attention. Frank was busy taking Gerard in. "Well that was interesting, sorry about that. I guess I got carried away dancing," Gerard commented, scratching the back of his head shyly.

"It's all good, accidents happen," Frank responded, chuckling under his breath. The two resumed cleaning the last table. Gerard and Frank started a fun game of glance-tag. Frank would start staring at him until he looked up, which made Frank look away. He would continue staring until Frank looked up, which made Gerard avert his vision. _'There's no way in hell that was an accident. Maybe I should kiss him? He must like me, right? Or is that too risky?'_ Frank started inching closer to him, still deciding whether or not he should. Gerard was the one that had gotten him all worked up after all... Frank was only about a foot away when Gerard started talking.

"Frankie, it's getting a bit late. Do you think you need to go home?" Well shit. My smile fell a little. The hour wasn't even up yet. There had finished cleaning, but he assumed Gerard would still want to hang out. 'Is he sending me away? Did he get what he wanted, a cheap thrill? No, stop thinking like that.' "I can give you a ride, if you wanted..."

"If it's not too much trouble, I'd love that." They set their dirty washrags into the sink and gathered their bags. It took a while to find the car, but when they did, Frank's jaw dropped. It was a Mercedes S Class, as dark black as Gerard's hair. "This is yours?" Frank gasped. How the hell could he afford this on a teacher's salary for fuck's sake?

"Yep, all mine," he chuckled. "It was a gift." He popped the trunk for Frank so Frank could set his stuff inside before hopping in shotgun. The seats were a light leather, the interior had black and wooden accents on the steering wheel and dashboard. Everything was sleek and so very, very expensive. It made Ray's F150 look like child's play. The engine vrrr'd to life as he turned the key and put it in drive. It drove smooth, completely silent. Frank was beyond impressed. He hoped Gerard didn't look down on him for not even owning a car. As Gerard turned out of the school's parking lot, something was nagging in the back of Frank's mind. Was right now the right time to ask though? 

"Gerard, I - well, maybe this is personal? I don't really know... I've kinda been noticing something all week," Frank started in awkwardly. He quickly added, "Uh, what's up with you and Mikey?"

Gerard seemed to give the same wide-eyed expression as Mikey had when Frank questioned him earlier. "Well he, uh I've... known Mikey for a long time. Didn't know he went to Belleville, we've been catching up."

"Oh..." That's odd, Mikey had never talked about Gerard before, not to Frank at least. Knowing Mikey, it probably never crossed his mind. Something still felt off about his vague answer, but Frank wasn't going to push it. "My house is right there," Frank pointed out. It was the third house on Hill Street, the bricks were a dirty terra cotta colour. It was the only house that wasn't uniform with the others. It seemed darker, and a bit more secluded than the surrounding houses. Gerard whipped into the driveway. As they unbuckled, Frank said, "Thank you so much for dropping me off, Gerard."

"Yeah sure, anytime," he said before going around back to pop the trunk once more for Frank to get out his things before he shut it again. Frank went up the steps and unlocked the door, then turned around to say a last thanks. Frank really wish he hadn't.

The way Gerard was leaning against the car in his formal yet ruffled clothes looked like something straight out of GQ Magazine. Gerard smirked at Frank's amazed look, noticing the apparent change. Frank was fumbling with the door knob, probably looking like an idiot. "I'll see you next week, Frankie," he called over. He threw a quick wave over at him and Frank returned it. Right as he opened the door, Frank called out his name.

"Gerard!" Frank paused. 'Maybe I shouldn't... Come on Frank, man up, get the guts to say it. Out with it already!' "Gerard, what you're doing for me, it really means the world to me." He froze for a minute. _'I just ruined everything didn't I? Of course, I mess up everything.'_ But then a smile crept onto his face, getting wider and wider.

"Frankie, I do it 'cuz I care about you kid. Now, go inside and enjoy your weekend!" Before Frank had time to respond, he reentered the car. Frank was so utterly confused, but so lovestruck that he wasn't sure what to make of it all. Frank smiled dopily at him. The engine vrrr'd as he put it in reverse. He was an excellent driver, backing out the driveway like he'd done it a billion times before. Eventually his Mercedes went out of view, leaving only Frank and the deserted road.

Gerard looked back at Frank still standing in the doorway through his rearview mirror. His look was absolutely priceless. Frank had the sweetest, happy-go-lucky expression on his face. Though, after today, Gerard had reason to believe he wasn't as innocent as he made out to be. Gerard had no idea what made him throw himself at Frank in the art room. He was just so tempted. He really shouldn't have, and he knew it, but simply couldn't help himself. Gerard didn't really know how to feel about everything. He was an adult, after all, and Frank wasn't. His job and livelihood were at risk here already after a single week of being at this new school.

Frank closed the door and pressed his back against it. He slowly slid down, til he was sitting, knees level with his eyes. Frank ran a hand through his hair. Today had been a very interesting day to say the fucking least. Yeah, he was confused now more than ever, but holy shit, seeing Gerard on top of him like that... he didn't think his heart could handle all the excitement. _'I should've kissed him. His mouth was right there, right next to mine. I bet he wanted to, but didn't know how I'd react. Next time... next time, I'm fucking going for it. He's got to like me. He even said so himself, he cares about me! I can't believe this, someone actually likes me...'_

Frank pulled out his phone from his pocket to text Ray. 

_Frank: hey man, I'm out of detention and home now. wanna swing by soon?_

As Frank waited for a response, he continued daydreaming about Monday, the next time he'd get to see Mr. Way. It felt like such a long period of time to be apart, even though it was only a couple days of separation. Had he really, in only a single week, become so dependent on Gerard's presence? It hadn't even been ten minutes since he lost saw the man, and already a twinge of longing bubbled up inside him. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thank u for reading! i've posted a lot of chapters right in a row, so i might take like a day or two to write. it just depends on school! 
> 
> p.s. im so sad i didn't get to see this hit 420 hits lmao


	11. Boys' Night

Frank was sitting outside on the front porch steps with a lit cigarette between his lips while he waited on Ray. Smoking wasn't necessarily a habit for him, just a way to refocus himself. Vices like that were nothing new to Frank though. After all, the first time he'd smoked weed was all the way back in middle school. Then came the alcohol, the xanax, the adderall. Frank supposed he'd always had this kind of obsessive personality type. Sometimes it came in handy, like when he wanted to learn guitar. Sometimes it proved rather treacherous, like when he had his personal vendetta to get his hands on every drug he could find in all of New Jersey. Frank was doing his absolute best to move away from that lifestyle, even if it'd cost him a few friends along the way. He'd been clean of pretty much everything for the past few months except the occasional cigarette or maybe just one beer. He didn't feel the same without it, like he was somehow a lesser, more boring version of himself. Relapsing would be so easy, yet he pushed forward. Not just for himself. He couldn't put this mother through another trip to the ER to get his stomach pumped, or have her watch as her son was put back on a suicide watch list. No, he did it for her, and she was so proud of him for it.

The familiar F150 rolled up to Frank's house around 5 that afternoon. Frank stood and stomped the flame of the Marlboro under his foot, brushing the dirt off his jeans. Ray waved him inside the truck.

"Hey buddy, how was detention?"

"Not bad actually, we got out kinda early." Frank didn't want to admit that Gerard had bailed him out of there. He knew it would probably go right over Ray's head, but he was still paranoid about someone finding out that he was in love with his teacher. "I saw you and Christa at the pep rally though, looking like the cutest couple at Hell-ville if you ask me," Frank smirked.

"Yeah right. She made me talk to all her friends and holy fucking shit they were boring as hell. I wished you'd been there to break some of the silence, you know, make a few dick jokes or something to make me look like a totally great guy in comparison," Ray laughed.

"I mean, what else are friends for? If dick jokes get you laid, so be it. And speaking of getting some action, you remember that text I sent you earlier?"

"Yeah, something amazing right? Don't tell me you got your dick sucked under the bleachers, dude," Ray said with a serious tone.

"Nah, I wish though... I'm kidding, Ray, don't give me that look. You're not my mother. Ok but anyway, there I was, going up the steps to the soundbooth to see Mikey like he asked to us right, and I slowly opened the door, and BAM right in front of me is Terra in his lap totally sucking his face off. You know Terra, the girl he said he didn't have a crush on?? He had his hands all over her too!" Ray's mouth was agape as he kept looking back between the road and Frank, who was grinning like a devil. "You should've been there dude! She never even heard me come in or looked up or anything!"

"Shit I can't wait to give him so much hell for this," Ray smiled, temporarily taking his hands off the wheel to rub his hands together. "Did Mikey see you?"

"Yep! Peeped one eye opened, waved me out, and got right back to it!"

"Geez Frank, you're such a cockblock," he teased.

Frank nodded his head, "Yeah, because I'm definitely not the one who is trying to get you both banged all the time." They both laughed. They continued driving around for a while, talking about nothing in particular, just enjoying each other's company. After a while, Ray's stomach started growling.

"Listen, is it cool with you if we just get pizza and go back to my place? I want a video game night like old times. You down?"

"Aw hell yeah," Frank replied. "My vote's for Domino's."

"Already heading that way. You know me so well. Can you look around for my Bleach CD and put it in? I'm in the mood for some Nirvana." Frank pulled all the papers and trash from under his feet, eventually uncovering the coveted CD and putting it in. The two sang along to Blew and Floyd The Barber as they traveled along to the pizza place. Although it was a Friday evening, not many people were out on the roads. The street lights eventually flicked, as well as the neon signs and storefront signs. Frank loved the soft glow of the city.

When they pulled into the parking lot, Frank pulled out a $10 bill from his wallet, saying, "Oi, go across the street to that gas station. I want a Coke, and you can get whatever you want. My treat. I still feel like I owe you for saving my ass from Jordan. I'll get the pizza. What do you want on your half?"

"Uhhh just usual I guess. Pepperoni, ham, and bacon."

"You know, it's not too late to try being vegetarian, Ray."

"You know, it's not too late to accept the fact that I'd rather than die than not eat meat, Frank," Ray joked.

They both exited the truck, and as Ray started walking the other way, Frank hollered, "I'm ordering pineapple, mushrooms, and anchovies for you!"

"You wouldn't dare!" Ray yelled over his shoulder. Frank waltzed in the store and ordered one half of a large pizza with the 3 meats Ray specified, and the other half with green peppers and onions for himself. He even thew in an order of cheesy garlic bread out of generosity. When Frank walked back out to the truck, pizza in hand, Ray was already sat back in the driver's seat. Not only had he bought two Cokes, but a bag of Hot Cheetos and Oreos as well.

"I had to get all the necessities, you know," Ray justified. He put the key in the ignition. "It's gonna be a long night. Just you, me, and whoever the hell else is on Xbox Live in Jersey!" The next place they went was a nearby Walmart with a Redbox outside. Video game nights always involved a movie at some point or another. They started scanning the titles in the horror genre. "What about Get Out?"

"Too mainstream," Frank replied.

"Killing of a Sacred Deer?" Ray suggested.

"Too indie."

"How 'bout Raw? Says here it's super gory."

"I'm in." Ray inserted a couple dollars, retrieved the flick, and the two were soon headed back to his house.

Upon arriving, Ray's mother greeted them kindly and sent them off to Ray's room upstairs with a couple of plates for the pizza. He had the whole second floor to himself, so making noise was never an issue. They decided to set up camp for the night on Ray's couch right in front of the TV. Frank dished out their feast, distributing the halves on each plate and then piling on Hot Cheetos. The pack of Oreos already had the plastic film ripped off and the container was placed between them.

"Call of Duty good with you?" Ray asked.

"You bet," Frank said, biting into his pizza. Ray fired up the Xbox and tossed a controller over. The hours passed by with both boys completely enticed in the game. Laughter, strings of curses, and battle commands flowed from them. By the time the clock struck midnight, it was silently assumed that Frank would be sleeping over. Ray eventually suggested that they should kill the video games and put in the movie. Promises of a huge tub of chocolate ice cream coaxed Frank into handing over the controller. While Ray went downstairs to get the ice cream, Frank checked his texts.

_Mikey: jesus christ man you couldn't have knocked?? I had the door locked for a reason!!!!_

_Frank: i was gna scare u! lol i need the details asap_

_Mikey: you saw it happen! it was just a little kissing, nothin major_

_Frank: 'nothin major' ?? it looked like you were about to bend her over the soundboard lmao_

_Mikey: get ur mind out of the gutter_

When Ray came back upstairs with spoons in hand, Frank immediately showed him the messages. He couldn't help but laugh. "He's totally got a crush. Dumb question, but do you think she likes him back? I mean, it could just be a one time thing maybe. Ask him!" Frank sent another message.

_Frank: so are u guys like a thing? talking? dating? whats goin on_

_Mikey: we r just friends. we hung out all afternoon at some bookstore she wanted to go to, that's it._

"She totally likes him," Ray concluded. Frank sent a goodnight text to Mikey and put his phone away. For someone who had just eaten a couple thousand calories in junk food, Frank attacked the chocolate ice cream with a hungry vigor while Ray was busy getting the movie set up. "How's it going with you and that special someone?" Ray asked.

Frank was so glad that Ray had his back turned to him so he didn't see Frank nearly choke in response. He had no clue how to answer that question. "Uhhhh, well, you know..." Frank trailed off.

"Not good, huh?" Ray said.

"It's not that, it's just, things are complicated. I don't wanna get into detail," Frank brushed off the topic.

"Oh come on, it's honesty hour. Tell me how things are really going!"

Frank sighed. "Alright well I'm still just not sure how they feel about me. I'm not even sure how I feel. I mean, I really like them, but I'm not sure in what way or how much, if that makes sense. God, he's just so sweet and-"

"He?" Ray interrupted and spun around to face him. Frank stopped dead in his tracks, mouth still open.

"I meant she."

"No you didn't."

"Yes I did," Frank insisted.

"No."

"Yes."

"Frank." Ray gave him the same kind of look your parent would give you when you were in trouble but wouldn't admit to your crime. Frank knew that this conversation would go on and on until Ray got his way. 

"Okay, fine, it's a dude alright? Get over it," Frank barked.

"Whoa, whoa, calm down. I don't give a fuck about that, alright? What I don't like is you keeping secrets from me. You know I'm not going to judge you about that shit."

Frank breathed a sigh of relief, adding, "Well, you see why I'm all so bent out of shape over it? It's really confusing. I've never been in this situation before."

"Yeah, I get it. I know the other day you said there was an age difference. Is that why you're stressing too?"

"That's part of it," Frank admitted.

"He's not... younger, is he?"

"Dear god no, Jesus I'm not some pedophile, Ray," he snapped.

Ray held his hands up in surrender. "OK, ok, I'm just checking. So he's older huh?"

"Yeah, a bit. It's only 5 years," Frank tried justifying.

"Dude, you're just 17 though, meaning you're underage. That's not exactly legal..."

"You think I don't get that? My birthday is in a few fucking months. I'll be 18 and it won't be a big deal anymore. No one questions a 35 year old and a 40 year old being together. No one needs to question us either. If everyone would just mind their own fucking business, none of it will be an issue!" Frank yelled. He hadn't realized he'd begun yelling. Ray just stared up at him from his spot on the floor where he'd been fooling with the DVD player. Frank felt bad, immediately apologizing, "I - I'm sorry, I didn't mean to... Can we just watch the movie now? I don't wanna talk about it."

Ray retrieved the remote from between the couch cushions and hit the play button. He relocated to his bed, tucking himself underneath the covers so Frank could have his space to cool off. The two didn't speak another word for the rest of the night.

About an hour in, Ray fell asleep, snoring lightly. Frank stared blankly at the screen even though he wasn't actually paying attention to what exactly was going on. Scenes of gore, cannibalism, and sex droned on and on. He couldn't help but think about going off on Ray the way he did. His feelings for Mr. Way were so taboo and wrong and illegal and Frank knew it. He'd said too much as it was, and needed to be careful. Even without saying a name, enough clues would definitely give away who it was. Maybe Ray could keep a secret, but maybe not. Was it worth the risk? Frank didn't know. He almost considered waking him up to confess the whole tale to him, to come clean and be honest. The idea fleeted from his mind rather quickly though. It wasn't just his friendship that was on the line. It was Gerard's whole life.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> im baaaack


	12. Drown In The Sorrows

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> SPOILER: if u get triggered by violence and/or strong homophobia, don't read this chapter!

The next few weeks passed by without a hitch. August turned into September rather seamlessly, Frank believed. The weather cooled a few degrees, the bugs slowly died off, school continued onward in a normal routine.

Ray hadn't brought up Frank's crush since their sleepover night, for which he was pretty thankful. Most of the attention had been placed on Ray and Christa's blossoming relationship that was getting pretty serious. He'd met her parents and everything! The couple bounced between Frank's lunch table and Christa's friends' table. Almost everyone at Belleville talked about them. Some simply couldn't believe that goody two shoes Christa had ended up with "greasy" "low class" "metal man" Ray Toro. Some were jealous that Christa had a boyfriend. Some were jealous that Ray had a girlfriend. The opinions were obviously pretty mixed. "Let them talk" was what Ray always said with a roll of his eyes. When you go a small school, you have to expect unwanted rumors and opinions and whatnot. In other news, Mikey and Terra's relationship had sort of plateaued. Mikey would never give too many details about what happened between the two of them anyway. Most of Frank's information came from Terra, who claimed they were taking it slow, not rushing, but also were ready to jump each other's bones at any given moment. If Frank ever pushed for more details, she'd snap at him with her usual fiery attitude. "Stay in your lane, Iero."

Frank still continued to hang out with Mr. Way nearly everyday after school. It was clear that they'd formed an attachment to each other. For two days, Frank had been out of school for an awful stomach bug. The following day when he returned, Gerard was all over him, asking where he'd been and if he was okay. Mr. Way slyly asked for Frank's phone number, explaining that it was just in case something like that happened again. "Emergencies only, you know," he claimed. That statement went right out the window. The two would text each other almost every night. Gerard always seemed to be the one to reply late or never text back at all, but when he did, the ecstasy Frank felt was better than anything he'd ever felt as a result from drugs. Everything was going so right.

It was a Thursday. Frank had already been to see Mr. Way for class that morning. Trigonometry class was next and he needed all his wits about him in order to get through it. Frank desperately wanted it to be the weekend so he could stay up all night texting Gerard. When he made it into Room 23, his body felt heavier. It was like Gerard had some sort of gravitational pull on Frank, luring Frank to him.

Mr. Deeds was not there that day, thank god. Frank was not in the mood to hear that old man ramble or bore him with some anecdote from his past. He had left his students with a young, female substitute. She was nothing special - mid-thirties, brunette, brown eyes, and minimal makeup. Mr. Deeds left her instructions to pass out a worksheet that everyone needed to complete and then allowed them to do whatever for the rest of class. Frank stared blankly down at the worksheet, all the equations and formulas jumbling around in his head. He laid his head down on his arms for a minute, resting his mind. The substitute teacher had her back to the kids (bad idea) and Frank was sitting near a door, so after a few minutes he got the idea to duck out. Just like that - gathered his stuff, and tiptoed out the door without her ever noticing a thing. Frank wasn't really sure where he was going or what he wanted to do. He just didn't want to be in class, that was for sure. He went to the boys bathroom, checking each stall to make sure he was alone. _'Guess I could check my eyeliner, I think it messed up when I had my head down earlier,'_ Frank said to himself as he walked to the sink mirror. As he had guessed, it was smudged around the corners. Frank ran his fingers under the tap water, wiped away the excess, and then reapplied the charcoal-coloured liner. Frank was almost finished with the right eye when he thought he heard something. He stopped. Nothing. He continued on with his left eye. Out of the corner of his eye, he thought he saw movement. He quickly capped the eyeliner and turned around to find another hiding spot and - "FUCK!" He yelled. His face was suddenly pressed against the tile of the floor in an instant, his bones being crushed under an unspeakable weight. He had no clue what had even hit him. Or, more accurately, who.

"'Sup faggot!" That voice sounded familiar... why the hell had he just tackled Frank? "Oh am I gonna make you pay for your dumbass stunt. Thought you'd get away with it, didn't you?" the attacker barked, as someone else kicked Frank's ribs. A white flash of pain tore through him. Frank's mind was racing. _'Stunt? Get away with what? Who the - Jordan...'_ Jordan: the douchebag womanizer. Jordan: the jock that had terrorized Frank since freshman year. Jordan: the guy who nearly pummeled Frank if Ray hadn't intervened. _'How had he known I was in here?'_ His thoughts were interrupted by another blow, this time to his stomach, which sent another jolt of twinge of unimaginable agony throughout Frank's body.

"We've been waiting for this revenge. Waiting on you to get comfortable, let your guard down. And here we are. Feel good about yourself now, Iero?" Another kick to the stomach was enough to make Frank let out a groan. "So who have you been sucking off this week, homo?" Jordan grabbed Frank's head by the hair and slammed it back against the floor as hard as he could. He landed on the side of it luckily, but it still sent his teeth clattering together. "Is it that Toro kid, or maybe the new artsy freak Mr. Way? We know all about your little after school meetings. Wouldn't surprise me if you were going after teachers, you whore..." he spit. It hurt Frank much more to hear them talking shit about Mr. Way, who had done so much for Frank to make him happy and help him in class, than it was to hear them talk shit about himself. "Oi fellas, what should we do to the pathetic ass-eating emo?" Frank rotated his head as far as he could, considering Jordan was straddling his back. Frank counted four other feet, meaning Jordan had brought two of his sidekick gorillas with him. Funny that he didn't have the courage to take Frank on alone...

Unfortunately, Jordan had grabbed Frank's hair once more, bashing his face straight into the floor - this time Frank landed on his nose. He could feel hot blood trickle down onto his upper lip and saw a drip fall onto the floor. His body felt numb. Whether it was from the pain and Jordan suffocating Frank under his ridiculous mass, Frank wasn't sure. "How 'bout we pummel this kid's face in so hard, no one will pay to fuck him," one suggested. "He'll be out of a job!" another guy joked, sending the rest into a roar of snickers. Jordan hopped off, allowing Frank to breathe again before flipping Frank onto his back with a kick of his foot. Frank could briefly see a slowly fading brownish bruise still prominent on Jordan's jaw.

"Nice bruise you got there, Jordan. I'll be sure to tell Ray that he did a good job," Frank smirked. It was hard to act tough when Frank was the one on the ground with blood running out his mouth, but he managed. One of Jordan's goons shut him up by stomping into Frank's ribcage, probably bruising it. The other got him right in the groin and Jordan sent a punch to his jaw. His whole body cried out in misery, the throbs of pain made Frank convulse violently. He just couldn't fight back. Normally Frank would try to defend himself, but he knew this beating had been a long time in the making. He knew no one was coming to his rescue this time. Anyone who heard the ruckus would avoid it like the plague, lest they get involved. He lied there on the floor and took it. _'You deserve it. You're worthless, pathetic, stupid. You - you're just like...'_

"You're just like your deadbeat dad, cocksucker!" That was it. By some miracle, - an adrenaline-fueled, last ditch effort type of miracle - Frank forced himself off the ground and lunged at Jordan. He collided with him, sending him stumbling back until he hit his head against the wall. It made a pretty obvious 'crack' noise. He crumpled to the ground as Frank collapsed once more, his buddies gathering around him. "GET HIM!" he shouted. The two morons hovered over Frank, taking shots at various parts of his body. An eternity seemed to pass, the once unbearably sharp blows now fading into rough pulses, like it was nothing. They just kept coming and coming... "The bell's gonna ring soon, let's leave before someone sees," one of his followers suggested. They scrambled for the door, but Jordan stopped in his tracks - a single step away from the exit. _'Oh goddammit, just leave me alone already...'_

"One last thing..." he mumbled. He turned on his heel and creeped over to Frank's crumpled body. Frank rolled his head over to look at him dead in the eyes and gave him a shit-eating grin. He grabbed Frank's collar and pulled him close to his face, his hot, horrid breath choking him. "Wipe that shitty smirk off, bitch," Jordan snapped, sending a spray of saliva on his face, "and consider this a warning. Next time you dare to pull shit like that, it won't end as merciful as this time. I'll make you scream - not like you scream when you're taking it up the ass, Iero - nah, you'll be begging to live once I'm through with you. GOT IT?" he pushed Frank away and Frank's head collided with the floor. His foot connected with Frank's side for the last time and he sauntered away, not before wiping off his blood-covered knuckles on Frank's shirt. Frank knew it was his own blood. Blood was covering the tiles, seeping into Frank's shirt. Some had even gotten on the walls. Frank's vision was very blurry now. Blackness was trickling through his eyesight, white spots pounded along with every heart beat. His head throbbed. His whole body was immovable. Despite all that, Frank refused to let Jordan have the last word.

"Go to hell, you bastard." He didn't hear those final words, which Frank was kind of glad for. He probably would've killed him if he had. Frank's vision was slipping in and out of darkness. He thought about his mom, who surely would hear about this incident and be heartbroken. She'd threaten to fight with school and sue the bullies like she always did. Frank knew they didn't have the money. It was no use. Frank laid in his own pool of blood, wondering if he was dying. In a way, he hoped he was. The last thing he saw was a pair of shoes running into the bathroom, a distant voice calling out Frank's name, yelling it. Someone was shaking then cradling him, telling Frank to hold on. Then it all faded to black.

When Frank woke up again, he was in the nurse's office, sprawled out on one of the cheap mattresses for patients. _'But I'm not a patient... why am I even here?'_ When he tried to turn over to get up and leave, the excruciating pain brought back all the recent events to his memory. It was blurry, but he definitely recalled Jordan beating him to a pulp. _'No, it was a whole group of them... I think.'_

"F-Frank?" a voice called. Frank wasn't sure who it was. A soft hand encased his. "Oh Frank, I'm so sorry I didn't find you sooner..." A face hovered above, but it was too hazy to make out. A black aura lingered over their head, shrouding their face. Whoever it was began comforting Frank as the darkness started trickling through his vision again. "It's going to be okay, I got your back." Frank's eyelids fluttered and faltered. _'No, please no. Don't do this again!'_ Frank couldn't fight it though. He felt himself slipping away once more. The blackness overcame him and he was gone again.


	13. Someone Get Me To A Doctor

Frank wasn't sure how long it had been when he jolted up off the mattress. Back into reality, he tried blinking the film of blurriness away, completely aware of how his body ached in pain. Frank gazed around the room. White walls, a clock, some posters about health. He was still at the nurse's office. The clock was to the left of his bed, reading 2:40 pm. _'Wait... I left third period at 10:30ish. How have I been knocked out this long?'_ The nurse Ms. Jackie noticed Frank was awake and walked over to observe him.

"Frank, how are ya feelin' hun?" Ms. Jackie and Frank were more than acquainted. Anything Frank could find a reason to get out of class for - headaches, bloody noses, cuts, the occasional punch in the face - he'd come running to Ms. Jackie for aid. Jackie was no more than 30 years old, a transplant from Kentucky with a slight southern accent and too much knowledge about Frank. She felt that he got a bad rap around Belleville. She'd never turn him away from her office, even if most of his visits were for insignificant purposes. She could tell he was in need of someone to talk to, in need of a friend.

Frank barely comprehended what she had asked. Everything sounded like monotonous white static right then. "Uh, terrible," he croaked out. Frank could feel how swollen his face was just by the throbbing. He desperately needed water.

"Oh sweetheart, I'm so sorry. The school contacted your mother to discuss taking you to a hospital. Unfortunately, you'll be staying here at school until she can come take you back home. You're not allowed to walk or ride the bus, I'm afraid. It's against the principal's policies, not my decision."

Frank interrupted her with a groan. "Come on, Ms. Jackie, I just wanna go home."

"Oh honey I know you must feel bad, but if you were to pass out or hurt yourself any more on the way back, the school'd be in worse trouble. I know it must've hurt to slip on that water and hit your head against the sink like you did..." she trailed off, shaking her head in sympathy. Frank stared at her like she'd suddenly sprouted a second head. 'What kinda alternate reality is this bitch in? Slipped on water?? What?'

"Wait, what are you talking about?" Frank questioned.

"Oh, a boy came running in here around 11 this morning, frantic as could be, yelling that there'd been an accident and that you needed medical attention right then. He said that you'd slipped on a puddle of water in the boys restroom. You fell face first and hit your head on a sink, then fell on your ribcage and passed out. I don't remember his name. Starts with an 'm'... Mickey maybe? But thank god for him finding you, bless your heart," she commiserated. _'Jesus Christ I wish she would stop pitying me like I'm some pathetic little child. I am a pathetic teenager if anything, but I don't need sympathy.'_

"Mikey, I think you mean. He's my friend. What else happened after he found me?"

"Well, it took a couple of us to get you down here. You're small, so it wasn't too much of a problem," she laughed. _'I guess people can't go 5 minutes without making some sort of comment related to my height, dammit!'_ Ms. Jackie lowered her voice, switching on a much more serious tone. "You were having convulsions, pretty violent ones too. We almost called an ambulance, but your mother didn't grant us permission and since you're not a legal adult yet, we couldn't. That Mikey kid stayed here all through his lunch period and would've stayed longer had he not been forced to go to class. He talked to you in your sleep and eventually calmed you down, thank the lord. Went on and on about how he felt guilty for not finding you sooner and what not. It's not his fault, you know. Another student with a large afro came to visit during lunch as well. They're very sweet friends, you're lucky to have them."

Frank couldn't believe all that his friends have done for him. First Ray saving him from Jordan, then Mikey saving him after Jordan had gotten his revenge. Frank really was indebted to them. There was a knock at the door. Jackie scampered away, cracking the door behind her as she went out. Frank could see the principal Mr. Burns. God, Frank couldn't stand that man. They've had to have plenty of "disciplinary meetings" and "interventions" before, which usually consisted of him yelling how terrible of a student Frank was to him and his mom. Even Frank's mom thought he was unreasonable. Frank could barely hear them whispering, but couldn't really make anything out. Frank was almost asleep again when she reentered the room, a saddened look on her face.

"Now Frank, I hate to be the bearer of bad news, but Mr. Burns informed me that we have to move you. The nurse's office always closes at 3, and your principal is figuring out where to relocate you right now." Frank nodded in response. _'Are you FUCKING kidding me?! Okay fine, I knew that was coming, but I can barely sit up and she expects me to go waltzing around to god knows where in this school?'_ Frank huffed and leaned his head against the pillow again, exhausted just from thinking about it. "Well, I'll leave you alone. You'll have to be leaving in about 20 minutes. I'll wake you when it's time," she smiled and went back to her computer. 20 minutes didn't sound sufficient to Frank. Fuck Mr. Burns, if he knew the real story...

Frank knew it wouldn't be wise to tell the truth on this matter. Telling the truth might get Jordan and whoever else in some trouble, but nothing serious. Even the teachers were afraid of the jocks. They would turn a blind eye to a bullying, but if an average kid had their phone out in class, the student would end up getting suspended. They overcompensated on the little stuff to make up for all the much more serious shit the school avoided. Reporting Jordan wouldn't get him expelled, and it would definitely result in more injuries for Frank. They would only see Frank as a scared little tattle-tale that went crying to his mommy if he got a little roughed up. Frank still had his reputation to maintain, so no, he wasn't telling them what really happened. Thank God Mikey had made up something... Lord knows the second Frank woke up, he would've spouted out the whole story in a fit of anger without really even thinking about the consequences. Frank felt his head getting heavier, even with it already on the pillow. He closed his eyes for what seemed like only a minute before a hand pressed on his shoulder. The 20 minutes passed way too quickly for his liking.

"Frank, it's 3:00. I know you're in a lot of pain, but I'll do my best to help you down there. It'll take some time, so we'll just go slow. Okay darlin', can ya try and stand for me?" she encouraged. Frank groaned, swinging one leg over the edge, the other following. His feet (barely) touched the ground and he pushed up off the bed. Everything on his body ached. He just wanted to go home. Frank took a few steps, stumbled a bit, but knew he could manage it. The nurse's office was located near the front office, so not too many kids were in the halls. Frank caught a glimpse out the front doors' windows - the sun was shining, the sky was clear and looked warm.

Frank hobbled down the hall with his right arm slung over nurse Jackie for support. He had no clue where they were headed to. It looked like they were headed towards C Hall... Frank's heart started racing at the thought. Mr. Way's classes were down here, after all. He started walking faster, trying to get to Gerard as soon as possible. The door to his Creative Writing Class was another hundred feet away when his legs gave out. Frank tripped, managing to land on his knees. Nurse Jackie kept muttering her usual "Oh poor thing" and "You'll make it, just a few more steps" and "I'm so sorry..." Frank could've clobbered her right in the mouth just to get her to shut it, but Frank didn't have the energy and remained silent. Using all the strength he had wound up in body, Frank got back to feet and kept walking. The Creative Writing room came and went, as did the hopeful feeling about getting to see Gerard. They did, however come to the Art room and stop. "Mr. Burns told me this classroom would be empty, so you can find a desk or table to lay on and sleep til someone can take you home." She ushered him into the room, then found some tissues in case he started bleeding again and left, leaving the door open behind her. Frank pulled his phone out of his pocket. He was kind of surprised it wasn't broken from all the kicking. He knew just who to text

_Frank: Gerard I'm in the art room. come in here when class is over._

Frank laid his head down on the desk. His body was in agony now from all the moving and falling. Everything hurt like hell, and they left him to rot in this room for a half hour. _'If they were going to call a damn ambulance to take me to a damn hospital, do they honestly think I'm fit to stay in here?!'_ His eyes shut, the darkness welcomed him. Frank fell asleep rather quickly. The soft click of the door escorted him back to consciousness.

"Hey there Frankie," a sultry voice welcomed. _'Gerard,'_   he thought dreamily. Using the last of his energy, Frank lifted his head and opened his eyes. They immediately came into contact with the beautiful green eyes that could only belong to Gerard - a kneeling Gerard that was only a few inches away. Sparks shot straight down to Frank's abdomen, not at all like the miserable ones before. Gerard's eyes examined Frank's face, his grin fading. He covered his mouth, looking genuinely upset. "Oh Frankie," he breathed, "wh-what happened?"

Oh god, where to even begin... _'I know Gerard's my friend, but shouldn't I stick with the same story?'_ His eyes screamed his pity for me.

"Jordan, that's what happened," Frank managed to choke out. The hurt expression on his face melted to a grim one. 

"Frank, I'll do anything you want to get the kid in trouble, if you want. I'll do anything..." he mumbled. "Tell me what happened, Frankie," he coaxed, rubbing Frank's arm a little.

"Well, I went into the bathroom and Jordan and two of his idiot sidekicks tackled me. Beat me up, threatened me. They just kept punching, kicking, yelling..." the memories were replaying in Frank's head, causing him to tear up as he relived the pain. Gerard made a little "aww" noise, pulling Frank into a hug. Frank placed his head in the crook of his neck, breathing him in. Just being close to him was comforting. "When he left, everything went blurry. I really don't know much after that. The nurse said Mikey saw me and got her. I was apparently spazzing out and they were gonna call the hospital, but my mom didn't want them to. I get why, we just don't have the money for it you know? She can't pick me up 'til later, so I'm stuck here," he explained.

"I'm so sorry Frank," he consoled. Sure it was cliché, but the way he said it sounded ten times more genuine. "I was worried when you didn't show up in Creative Writing, but I didn't want to get worked up over it. I figured you'd text me."

"I'm surprised you noticed I was missing," Frank joked lightly. Gerard pulled him out of the embrace, still lightly holding onto his arms and looking Frank dead in the eyes.

"Of course I noticed. How could I not? You've been on my mind a lot recently... Frank I-" he cut off. He closed his mouth and glanced down. _'No, say it, just say it! I've been beaten, threatened, knocked out. He owes me the end of that sentence.'_

"You... what?" Frank ventured. He eventually returned his gaze to Frank, eyes clouded and searching all over Frank's face. Gerard glanced down once more before looking back up at him, biting his lip apprehensively. Before Frank knew it, Gerard grabbed him by the collar of his shirt and brought his mouth to Frank's, kissing him sweetly. His lips were so soft, Frank observed. Frank sat there dumbly, his brain too confused to react. 

In between kisses, Gerard breathily interjected, "You know... you're supposed to-" he pulled off, leaning his forehead against Frank's, looking up into Frank's eyes through his hair. His eyes were drowning with lust. "-kiss back," he smirked. Then he went back to the light kissing. This time Frank reciprocated. It was slow as he tried to savor every last second. Gerard's delicious mouth tasted of coffee and cigarettes. He moved his hands from Frank's collar down to his chest. He pressed into Frank harder, making Frank let out a sigh as he tilted his head. Frank's hands found themselves entangled in Gerard's luscious black hair, which was incredibly soft to the touch and very thick.

From there it only got more intense. Gerard, without breaking contact, pushed Frank's desk out of the way, rose from his kneeling position to place himself in Frank's lap. He kept moving a little, ending up grinding against Frank. Frank accidentally let out a little groan, earning a smirk from Gerard. He licked Frank's lower lip, as Frank opened his mouth slightly before he pushed right through aggressively, taking total control. Frank's pants only got tighter as he ran his tongue all inside Gerard's mouth. Gerard stopped for a second and bit Frank's lip, sucking on the lip ring. This time there was no holding back - Frank let out a breathy moan, completely out of pleasure. It was only pleasing Gerard more to know that he was eliciting these noises from Frank. He released Frank's lip and attached his mouth to Frank's neck. Frank was panting, his senses overloading as he gasped for air. It was impossible to feel his throbbing ribs at this point - there was nothing other than pure pleasure coursing through his veins.

Gerard trailed wet, open mouthed kisses down the side, forcing Frank to chew his lip to keep from making any other embarrassing noises. Frank's hand was fisted into his velvety locks, pulling slightly. He swore he heard him gasp when Frank pulled at it harder than usual. He continued leaving bites here and there, still grinding down a little, before returning to Frank's mouth. Without hesitation or permission, he entered Frank's mouth again. Every kiss was becoming more needy and desperate than the last. Frank loved every single second. Gerard abruptly tilted his head to the left, knocking Frank's aching nose on the way.

"FUCK!" Frank pulled back. Gerard nearly jumped out of his lap at the startling cry, which was obviously not out of satisfaction this time. Frank's hand shot up to cradle his nose.

"Oh my god Frankie are you okay?" he worried. Frank smiled and nodded, still holding his nose. Gerard hadn't hit it too hard, it was the initial stab of pain that caught Frank by surprise. Gerard sighed out of relief. Frank grinned, grabbed his chin, and placed a tender peck on his lips.

"It's almost 4 now, everyone should be gone. I'll pull my car around to the back door, that way you won't have to walk too far and no one will see you leave. I'll be around back in about 5 minutes." He stood up, his crotch momentarily inches from Frank's mouth - you don't want to know what image went through his head. He stepped around Frank and sauntered out the room, a little extra sway in his hips. Frank quickly texted him mom, informing her that he'd found a ride home, and stood from the chair, knees weak from exhaustion. He hobbled over to the back door where Gerard awaited him. Getting Frank inside of the car was an ordeal, but they managed. Glancing in the side view mirror, Frank admired Gerard's work. There were light bite marks and red spots running down the side of his neck. Frank treasured each and every marking.

Gerard reached into the glove box to retrieve his emergency pack of cigarettes and lighter. He stuck a cigarette between his teeth, lighting it with one hand while driving with the other. The smell of the smoke reminded Frank of the way Gerard's mouth had tasted. The whole way to Frank's house, Gerard lectured him. "And remember to take it easy, alright? Get a hot shower, wash off any blood the nurse might have missed. Sleep a lot too. You might wanna miss tomorrow, just to rest up, and that way you can have a long weekend. I wouldn't even mind taking tomorrow off if you need someone to watch over you..." Gerard glanced over at Frank, who was so clearly enamored and enchanted by him. When Gerard pulled into the driveway and parked, he gave a final lasting look at Frank. "Text me if you need anything. Literally anything. I'll be over in a heartbeat with anything you need. It's not a probl-" Frank cut him off with a kiss.

"Gerard, I - thank you. I want this so much, and I need you to know that," Frank said. He smiled, "I'm never going to forget today, for so many reasons."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> lmao we didn't have any power yesterday bc of this fkn snow storm so i made this chapter extra long for u :^)


	14. Seeing Stars

Friday rolled around faster than expected. When Frank had gotten home that Thursday evening, he crawled upstairs, jerked off, and went to sleep. He probably would've went right to bed if he hadn't been so high strung from his make out session with Mr. Way. He couldn't hardly believe it happened. Perhaps it was a fever dream or hallucination as a result of having the shit knocked out of him, but when he looked in the mirror, those glorious red bite marks still graced his skin. However, he also noticed how swollen and bruised his face looked, immediately getting embarrassed that Gerard had to see him like that. Funny, he didn't have the energy to do anything at all except think about Gerard, and how magical and significant the day had been, but not about Jordan or his pain. Hell, he didn't even have it in him to take off his blood soaked clothes until the next morning. Frank's mother insisted he stay home from school that Friday, which Frank didn't argue about at all. She'd set up a nice little nest in his bed with plenty of blankets and pillows, then made homemade vegetable soup to snack on and left him with plenty of fluids.

"I won't be back til pretty late tonight. I don't want you to move from this spot unless absolutely necessary, understand?" Frank, with a mouthful of soup, nodded in response. "Good. Maybe one of your friends can come check on you after school? I'll leave it to you whether you want anyone over or not. Have a good day, sweetheart," his mom said, who then kissed his forehead before heading off to work. She hadn't questioned anything about what happened - not about Jordan, not about who took him home, nothing. He figured she'd heard what "happened" during the phone call and took it at face value. Frank knew she felt helpless inside and didn't want her to worry more than she already was. There was nothing to be done anyway. Might as well leave the past in the past and move on. Besides, resting, sleeping, and eating was all Frank wanted to do. That is, until Gerard texted him.

_Gerard: Frank, do you need anything?_

_Frank: not really, my mom hooked me up with some soup before she left for work. thanks for offer tho_

_Gerard: Oh no, you're all by yourself? Don't you need company?_

_Frank: i mean, itd be nice, but everyones at school u know_

_Gerard: I rather conveniently called in sick today. How does coffee sound?_

Frank couldn't believe his eyes. What was Gerard implying? He stared at the text for a while, typing and retyping his answer. Was it too vague? Too desperate? Too misleading? Frank gave up trying to discreet before just flat out asking.

_Frank: are you asking me out on a date?_

_Gerard: I was thinking about just bringing it to you. It definitely could be if you want. Do you feel up for a Starbucks run?_

Of course he didn't. His bones ached, his head pounded dully from a headache. His body screamed no, but his heart begged yes. There was no way in hell Frank was going to pass up this opportunity.

_Frank: hell yeah. give me like half an hour yeah?_

_Gerard: Sounds great!_

Frank let his head rest against him pillow again in relief, grinning to himself. Was he really about to go on a date with Gerard? This couldn't be happening, surely it wasn't. _'There's no way. I'm a total loser. A pussy that couldn't even defend himself in a fight.'_   Frank read and reread Gerard's text a million times. _'But here we are.'_

Getting ready proved much harder than expected. In theory, he'd just stand up, maybe wince a little at the pain, and go about his business. On the contrary, he stumbled all over the place, knocking into bedside tables and lamps, tripping over the dirty clothes strewn across the carpet. He wasn't even sure where to begin. For starters, Frank knew his hygiene was not up to par to go on a date. He hadn't even brushed his teeth since the morning before. A bath and some toothpaste fixed him right up. In the shower, Frank could see bruises dotting all over his skin, all the way from his jaw to his stomach. Dried drops of blood were caked on here and there, but washed down the drain after some scrubbing. It was all he could do to pull on a pair of clean black jeans and old sweatshirt when he was done. When Frank saw that jet black Mercedes roll into the drive from his bedroom window, he scooted down the stairs, clinging to the railing for his life, slid on some Converse and was out the door.

The ride to Starbucks couldn't have been much more enjoyable. Other than Frank's throbbing nose, aching body and parched throat, everything went without a hitch. He was a little disappointed when he wasn't greeted with a kiss, but quickly got over it. He knew it was silly to expect so much at once. Gerard had turned on the radio and flipped to a station playing Weezer. Buddy Holly came on, which was incidentally one of Frank's all time favorite songs. Gerard started quietly singing along. Frank would have too, had his throat not been killing him.

"Oh come on Gerard, sing louder," Frank whined, "I know you want to!" He had such a gorgeous voice, Frank wanted to hear it anytime possible. A gift like that should never be wasted. Gerard smiled shyly - Frank didn't know he was capable of being shy! - and gradually got a little louder. Frank laughed at his odd behavior and encouraged him to continue. "That's more like the Gerard I know!"

While Gerard was rocking out to the radio, Frank took the time to steal a few glances at him. His hair was tousled, alabaster skin without blemish, hazel eyes lit up as ever. He was perfect, absolutely perfect. Frank swore he was glowing. Maybe it was his imagination, or maybe Gerard was truly an angel on Earth. The options seemed equally likely in Frank's mind. Frank observed along the way that Gerard was going to the store on the farthest end of town, probably to avoid bumping into anyone that they might potentially know. He mentally applauded Gerard's discretion, as it was something he would have probably never even given a thought to. When the Starbucks came into view, Frank realized he had no clue what to order.

"Gerard, what should I get?"

"Whatever you want, silly."

"That's the thing, I don't know what I want. Do I want something hot? Something cold?"

"You can just get what I get and call it a day, if you want," Gerard laughed, as he pulled into the drive thru. Gerard insisted on not going inside, saying that he didn't want to trouble Frank with getting out and walking. He was such a gentleman when he was being Frank's cocktease. Even then, he was still exceedingly attractive and amazing, just under different circumstances. Gerard ordered them both mocha frappuccinos with whipped cream and caramel drizzled on top.

"What size do you want?" he asked.

"Oh, just a small," Frank replied.

"Make that two ventis," Gerard chirped into the microphone. Frank rolled his eyes and started to pull out his wallet, but Gerard stopped him. "Uh Gerard, let me pay for mine. It's fine," Frank insisted.

"Oh no no no, Frankie. You've been to hell and back. It's the least I could do to make you feel better. Besides," Gerard turned his head to Frank, greeting him with a know-it-all grin, "This is like a date or whatever, remember?"

Frank muttered a "Well if you're sure..." and Gerard nodded aggressively, just to get his point across. He could be so cute sometimes. The lady at the window greeted the two, handing over the Venti mocha goodness. Gerard paid her and drove off. Frank expected him to pull into a space and park, so he wasn't really sure where they were going. They both took sips of their beverages, "ahh"-ing in agreement. It was absolutely delicious. The iciness felt wonderful all over. Frank looked over as Gerard licked some whipped cream off the side. The action wasn't supposed to seductive or sexy, but it most definitely was to Frank. He scolded his perverted mind for unconsciously daydreaming about the things he'd would love to do involving whipped cream and Gerard's tongue. The way Gerard smirked subtly told Frank that he knew he'd been watching.

He took another swig of his drink, and began talking. "When are you gonna get more tattoos, Frank?" In all their afternoon meetings, they'd talked a lot about Frank's scorpion tattoo - why Frank chose it, how he begged and borrowed his friends for money, how he had to search for the seediest tattoo parlor in all of Jersey just so they wouldn't card him. This question had never come up before though.

"Ah, you know damn well I want more, just don't really have the money for 'em," he explained.

"But you look so good with them, tattoos and piercings totally fit your personality. But fine, if you don't know when, then do you know what you want?"

Frank had been pondering that question himself since he was sat in the leather chair of parlor getting his very first tat. "Knuckle tattoos are rad, I'll probably get something there. Oh, and definitely something for my mom, like a little commemorative piece."

Gerard nodded his head solemnly, saying, "You're really lucky to have such a good relationship with your mother. I never really knew mine. My parents divorced when I was super young, so young that I hardly remember what it was like living with both of them." Gerard stayed silent for a minute before chuckling to himself. "Shit, didn't mean to get all depressing on you dude."

"No, you're fine, don't even worry about that," Frank consoled. He could tell Gerard was bothered by the subject of his parents. Changing the topic, he asked, "Would you ever get a tattoo, Gerard?"

"Oh fuck no," he said, a forcefulness behind his tone. "I've considered it before like when I was a teenager, but I'm just too damn afraid of needles, ya know?"

"You'd look fantastic with tattoos. No one could resist you then," Frank flirted. _'It's hard enough now,'_ he added in my head.

"Oh really now? If I even got one, where would I put? It can't be visible since that's against school rules."

"Oh I could show you were to put it," Frank smirked at him playfully.

Gerard took the bait, teasing back. "Is that so? I think you should come over here and show me."

"Maybe I will," Frank challenged.

"I dare y-OH SHIT!" Their impish flirting was cut short as Gerard nearly crashed into a mailbox. He swerved out of the way inches from hitting it and back onto the main road. The two boys turned to each and bursted out laughing.

"Second time in two days that the universe has tried to kill me. Think that's a sign or something?" Frank cracked up. Gerard's giggles were more feminine and high pitched than Frank's, he noted. It only made him more adorable. "Hey, where the hell are we even going?"

"Don't you want it to be a surprise? We're almost there anyway," Gerard assured. Honestly, it could've been a dumpster behind a fucking Arby's and Frank would've been happy as ever. When he did see where Gerard had taken him, he was blown away.

"Gerard, this place is beautiful. How'd you even know about it?" Gerard had driven up to the bank of a large, glistening pond full of ducks and geese. It was surrounded by open fields of green grass that swayed with the breeze. The mid-September noon sun shone down from above, reflecting in the light blue water. There were sidewalks paved, acting as a walking track, but no one else was there other than Frank and Gerard. It was peaceful and silent, aside from the soft cawing of the birds. 

Gerard shrugged, "Found it one day when I first moved here. It's a good place to talk." He rolled down the windows of the car before killing the engine, leaving the music on at a low level. "And that's what I came here to do Frank. I want to talk..." 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> im so fuckin tired of snow man its too much


	15. Tension

"Frank, what happened yesterday - well, when I kissed you, fuck. I'm sorry Frank, I really am, but it was a mistake."

Frank's heart completely stopped. His mouth hung open slightly as his whole body went slack from shock. Surely this wasn't happening. He'd been saying that line in his head all day, but now it was for all the wrong reasons.

"Wait, no I don't mean it in a mean way or anything, it's just -" Gerard searched all over Frank's face, as if somehow the words would magically appear on him and he'd know the right thing to say. "It's just that I'm your teacher. I can't take advantage of you like that, Frank, it's so wrong."

"But-"

"But nothing. Let me finish, okay?" Gerard looked as helpless and confused as Frank did. He took a deep breath, released it, and then resumed. "Kissing you in the school like that? I'm a complete idiot for even thinking of doing it. It was stupid, irresponsible, reckless, immature-"

"Can you fucking quit with the adjectives?" Frank barked at him. "Get to the point already, dammit."

"My point is, anyone could've walked in. Anyone could've seen. And that would've been the end of it for us. I'm not about to get you in trouble, okay, that's not my intention at all."

"No, Gerard, I fucking get it now. You regret it. You got what you wanted I guess and now you're done? What the hell did you even drag me out here for? How the fuck are you just gonna lead me on like this..." Frank questioned. His eyes stung as tears pooled in them.

"Frankie that's not true! I kissed you-" he abruptly stopped his yelling, sighing heavily. Gerard shut his eyes and leaned his head back against the seat's rest. "I kissed you because I like you. A lot. Too much. In an inappropriate way. And I absolutely never said I regret it. In fact, I don't at all, even though I know I should. I loved every second and only want more, but I shouldn't. Can't."

"But if you can't, then why'd you call this a date?"

"You're not getting it, are you? I DO want this to be a date. Fuck, I want this to be a relationship. I want you so bad, Frank." Frank's blood rushed through him so fast that it made him dizzy. He'd dreamt of hearing those words, all those dirty thoughts and jerk-off scenarios revolved around those words. This certainly wasn't the context he'd daydreamed about though. "There's just so many risks, you know?"

"Like what?" Frank snapped. He already knew the answer to his question. He was so hurt that it made him pissed off and irrational. He wanted to stay mad even though he knew Gerard was coming from perfectly good intentions.

"For starters? Let's talk about how you're underage. That could mean jail time, Frank. Court cases, prison, fines, being branded a sex offender-" Frank winced at that. He really was on track to getting Gerard locked up for life.

"Well what else?" Frank egged on.

"I'm your teacher for fuck's sake! Isn't that a little obvious?"

Frank didn't like his condescending tone at all. "I fucking understand that, dude."

"Then you should know that teachers aren't supposed to have this kind of relationship with a student. It's bad enough that I text you and that I'm hanging out with you right now. Shit, I took a whole day off just to come check up on you."

Silence lingered between them. The music from the radio turned into white noise. It sounded like nothing to Frank, but at least it broke some of the awkwardness. Curses and ill-wishes spun around in Frank's mind. He always had fighting words packed in his mouth, just waiting to be shot off at whoever dared to upset him, but he couldn't bring himself to yell and scream at Gerard. He couldn't tell him to fuck off or go to hell because then he'd be calling it quits. He kept his mouth shut, trying to focus on dispelling the tears still glistening in his vision, distorting the view.

"It can't happen again. I don't mean ever again. I mean not in the way it did happen. We can't be at school if we ever do anything like that again. And it's risky showing up at each other's houses all the time, but I'm not opposed to it with enough planning and discretion and time in between. The afternoons I spend with you are fine. You're just getting help remember? I'm not trying to get rid of you Frank, I swear, I'm not like that," Gerard coaxed. Downtrodden and defeated, Frank met the gaze of his teacher. He looked just about as miserable as Frank felt, but even then he looked beautiful as ever. A dangerous thought formed in Frank's head. He shouldn't, he knew he shouldn't, but fuck, if this was maybe going to be one of the last times he got to spend with Gerard in a long time, he was going to make it memorable.

His hands wandered over to his teacher’s belt and started unbuckling it as quick as he could before Gerard could even react. Gerard grabbed Frank's wrists, not wanting to take this any further.

“What the hell, stop,” he asserted, ushering Frank’s hands away. “Frank, no. Can't you see I'm trying to talk to you?”

Even with Frank's wrists encased, he still continued to undo the belt buckle. "No one's around so no one can see. I need this, Gerard, I'm fucking begging you," he gasped. Gerard held his eye contact. A desperate smirk crept onto Frank's face as he said, "If you didn't want it, wouldn't your grip be a little bit tighter around my wrists so you could stop me?"

"You have no clue what you're getting into, Frank," Gerard warned.

"I don't care," Frank breathed, undoing the zipper of Gerard's pants tortuously slow. "I know you want it, and you already know how badly I want it. Please sir," Frank asked, pouting his lips, "Let me suck your cock. Let me show you how good I can be for you."

Gerard shook his head, "I'm telling you now, Frank, it's- ah!" He was cut off mid-sentence as Frank began palming him through his boxers.

"I'll do anything for you, Mr. Way," Frank implored. Gerard's mouth was o-shaped as Frank continued to palm him. Frank felt him getting hard in his hand. Slowly, Gerard let go of the boy's wrists in surrender. Frank made quick work of getting Gerard's jeans pushed down past his thighs. He desperately hoped that Gerard couldn't hear Frank swallow as he shamelessly gawked at the large bulge in his boxers. Frank's lips were already slightly parted. One thin layer of material separated his cock from Frank's mouth, and Frank intended on changing that with few seconds to spare.

He looked at Gerard for permission, doe eyes covered with his tousled hair, still hesitant. He wasn't going to force Gerard, so now was the time to really put an end to all this if need be. They could go home and forget about anything ever happening. Instead, Gerard grabbed his hands and guided them to his hips, helping him pull down the boxers. Once it got over the bulge, Gerard swore he could see Frank's pupils dilate with lust and anticipation.

"You gonna sit there or fucking suck me? Let me see how bad you want me," Gerard said harshly. Frank bit his lip before grabbing the sides of Gerard's thighs, bringing his mouth so close to the older one's skin. Gerard could feel Frank's hot breath against his painfully erect cock. His lips ghosted over Gerard's skin, sending shivers down his spine. Frank lapped at the small drop of pre-cum that oozed from the tip, taking his precious time. Gerard released a moan quietly, not really being able to hold it back as he felt Frank’s lips kissing the head wetly. He licked a large stripe from base to tip. Frank thought he was going to burst from anticipation. This wasn't the first time he'd given head, but he'd be damned if this wasn't going to be the best time.

"P-please.." Gerard groaned subconsciously, entangling his fingers through Frank's soft hair, and, unable to hold himself back, forced his throbbing length into Frank's warm mouth and down his throat. He gagged a bit at the size, but quickly recovered. Frank was more than eager to take as much as he could into his mouth. He adjusted his position a little to get a better angle. Frank's swollen, spit-covered lips were wrapped tightly around Gerard's dick, bobbing up and down, covering his length with saliva. It was so slippery and wet, and so very motherfucking hot that Gerard couldn't take it.

"Fuck, you're such a good boy..." he whined. Frank swirled his tongue around the head, before dipping into the slit, lapping up everything he could. "God you're good at this," Gerard said through gritted teeth. Frank smirked up at his teacher, hollowing out his cheeks. Gerard moaned, his head lolling back. Frank was focused purely on working his tongue against a sensitive vein on Gerard's cock. Each time his tongue stroked up and down it, Gerard uncontrollably bucked his hips upward. The teacher's knuckles were hurting from gripping his hair so hard, especially when Frank began to deep-throat his dick. The feeling of Gerard's tip hitting the back of Frank's throat was almost enough to send him over the edge. He couldn't believe the gag reflex (or lack thereof) on that boy.

Frank changed positions again, this time so his hand worked up and down on the shaft, while his lips surrounding the head, massaging it with his tongue. Frank wanted to touch himself so badly as he looked up at Gerard, mouth open and eyes shut in ecstasy.

"You taste delicious," Frank murmured, mostly to himself, before resuming his work. Gerard's jerking and bucking became a little more erratic. Frank knew what was about to happen next. He tightened his cheeks even more, letting Gerard feel as much friction as possible.

When Gerard looked down and saw how pink and wet Frank's lips were, he had to restrain himself from moaning every expletive in the book. "When I cum, be a good boy and swallow for me? Look at me, Frank," Gerard commanded. The two made intense eye contact, seeing how clouded each other's eyes were with lust. Even with his mouth full, Frank still managed to smirk. Gerard was more than happy to give Frank this honor. Gerard forced Frank's head lower on his cock, bucked up a few times, and went over the edge. He closed his eyes, riding out the waves of bliss.

When Frank came back up, cum was running out the side of his mouth, but he was quick to lick it up as Gerard had instructed. While Gerard sat still and tried to catch his breath, Frank undid his pants and took his dick in his hand. He pumped himself furiously, muttering under his breath, so horny that it made his vision blur and his head spin. In fact, he was hardly paying attention to reality anymore until Gerard crushed a kiss onto his lips, removing Frank's hand from his dick so he could jerk him off instead. Gerard slipped his tongue into Frank's mouth, probing around. Their tongues slid over each other as he rubbed the head of Frank's cock roughly, his other hand wandering. He pulled away and traced Frank's lower lip with his tongue. He was really enjoying the lip ring, tugging it along with his lips.

"I know you've thought about me and touched yourself, haven't you Frankie? You've wanted this a long time huh?" Gerard's speed only increased, going at a faster pace than he would use on himself, only because it seemed to drive Frank wild. Frank clawed at his hair, whimpering for "More, more" until he finally released. Cum shot all over Gerard's hand that he was quick to clean up with some napkins that were inside the door pocket. Frank sunk back in his seat, exhausted but so very content. The two remained breathless for a few moments, readjusting themselves in their pants, then looking dead ahead at the lake. When Frank felt bold enough again, he hesitantly reached his hand over to intertwine his fingers with Gerard's. It wasn't exactly cuddling, but that was the most contact Frank could muster the courage to ask for. 

"Get what you wanted?" Gerard murmured as he stroked his thumb against Frank's hand.

"And then some," Frank replied.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hope everyone's havin a nice day n is gonna have a good weekend. im not rly sure how long im gonna make this fic, but it'll at the very least go to 20 chapters. im hoping for more though, just haven't figured out where i wanna take it yet!

**Author's Note:**

> Hey there! So I originally uploaded this piece on another fanfiction site years ago and decided to post it here. I never finished it, so I'm going back in and editing, revising, and adding bits in. Enjoy!


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